Dagger of Souls
by ordon68
Summary: A small group sent on an routine investigation, ends up in the middle of a war with an alliance of the northern orc tribes. They discover the war is a diversion and must survive the deadly battles to unravel the mystery of an ancient cult reborn.
1. Preface

Dagger of Souls

Preface

What was expected to be a small incident the heroes were investigating becomes a war with an alliance of the northern Orc tribes. They soon discover that the war is a diversion and must survive the deadly battles to unravel the mystery of an ancient cult reborn and find a way to stop them before their ominous plans can be wrought upon the civilized regions of the Western Heartlands.

This is a Forgotten Realms novel based on a campaign that I developed and ran for a few years through forums and a site called RPoL (Role-Play On-Line). You don't have to be familiar with the Realms or D&D to read this fan fiction novel. I have included descriptions of the world to allow all readers to help understand the backdrop and pertinent history of the Realms.

This is a working document and the story is unfinished. As the story develops, I may make some changes to the first chapters for either foreshadowing or for the sake of the book's integrity. I will add remarks concerning the changes to previous chapters in a NOTE section at the beginning of the new chapters I submit so that you can understand them without having to re-read the older chapters. You are welcomed to add suggestions and comments. All criticisms are fine as long as they are constructive or informative. I hope you enjoy reading the chapters.

Legal Notice:

Dungeon's and Dragon's, as well as the Forgotten Realms setting used extensively in this novel are creations of Wizard's of the Coast. Some of the areas are also based on a Forgotten Realms supplement called "Volo's Guide to the North". The main characters are mostly my creation or based on characters from my campaign that I have modified for this story.


	2. Chapter 1

Dagger of Souls

*** Chapter 1 ***

The barrel-chested body guard knocked thrice on the oak door, inlaid into the dark limestone alcove. His scarred, pallid skin glistened with sweat in the dim torchlight of the dark corridor. He pulled the circular bronze handle with his meaty hand, and cracked the door just enough to speak through it. "Lord Deveron, you have a visitor. War Chief Grog'Tur has requested an audience with you." The muscular guard awaited his leader's response with trepidation. The man in dark robes sitting in the chamber was not as strong as he, nor could he wield a weapon like the serrated axe at the powerful guard's belt, but his magic was feared by all who have ever witnessed it and lived to tell the tale. The fact that this thin, pale man could tap in to the underworld, the realm of the dead, and wield enormous power struck well-justified fear into the hearts of allies and foe alike. He himself had witnessed a guard who complained to Deveron about the dingy quarters he was forced to share. The dark wizard grabbed the man's scrawny throat with one hand which turned bright red as it drained the life out of the guard, who shriveled into a lifeless shell. He would never forget the shocked, black gaze from the sunken eye sockets of the man's corpse.

Behind the burly bodyguard, a huge orc chieftain waited for admittance to speak with the dark leader. The humanoid was even more muscular than the burly bodyguard at the door. His bulging bicep muscles showed prominently through the sleeveless padding underneath his dark chain mail armor and crude bear skin tunic. The dark greenish skin made his chiseled features seem even more massive. Grog'Tur's wide nostrils flared as he picked absently at one of the two vertical, yellowed teeth that stuck up from his large, black lower lip. He remained silent as he waited, though he tapped his huge boot on the rough stone floor impatiently. The chieftain was smart enough not risk raising the ire of Deveron by interrupting him before he was given permission to enter, though it irked him to have to wait.

"Go ahead, Durken, and tell him he may enter and speak with me briefly," the smooth voice came from within the room, after a long minute or two. The burly, bald guard pushed the solid oak door open and stood to the side to allow the orc's massive form to pass by and enter the chamber. The body guard followed behind and stood inside the door as he closed it. He watched every movement of the orc carefully as his hand rested dutifully on his razor sharp axe. The necromancer could dispatch of the orc quickly if there was need, but his job was to keep the cult leader from having to bother. He knew very well the dire consequences of even the slightest failure to follow his orders. The large orc was forced to relinquish his double bladed axe before entering the underground compound, so there was little chance of an incident. Orcs were very similar to humans in body shape, though usually much more broad shouldered and slightly taller. Their skin color varied from yellow-green to dark green and their hair was usually jet black. Their noses were very wide and slightly upturned giving them a swine-like appearance. They had two tusk-like teeth on their lower jaw where human canine teeth were that protruded up past their lips giving them a sinister looking visage. They preferred to live in the wilds, often in harsh conditions and prided themselves on being fierce warriors. They constructed only tents or very rudimentary wood structures for quarters and rarely stayed in one place for any great length of time.

The war chief stepped over the wide, bearskin rug covering the stone floor and stopped across the desk from the dark wizard. The orc gave the pale human a slight bow and then sat on the wooden bench facing the desk, which creaked loudly at the massive weight, as if the dead wood was crying out in pain from the excess load. Deveron looked up with a vague expression as he smoothed back the dark, wavy tresses of hair covering his pale, but handsome face. "Why are you here, Grog'Tur? I told you not to come unless there is trouble."

"Lord Deveron, some of the other war chiefs have been restless and wish to begin the attack. They grow tired of waiting in camps, and sharpening their blades. There is bad blood between some of the clans and fights begin to break out among them."

The man's pale face twisted into a sneer as he interrupted the chieftain's report, "Your clan leaders had better learn to control their warriors. The timing of the attack is critical to our success. Send them a message that if I hear of any clan member attacking another warrior before the battle begins, I will have their throats slit, and their war chief's heart cut out and fed to the maggots. A new one can be chosen to take his place, one that knows how to keep control of his men. That includes you, Grog'Tur."

The orc let out a throaty growl, but it died out quickly as he stared into the dangerous gaze of the necromancer's dark brown eyes. The guard at the door had his serrated axe at hand in an instant, but saw the green skinned humanoid made no move to stand or advance. He continued to keep the weapon at hand, but stood his ground by the doorway.

The large orc glanced at the guard, and then back to the dark wizard, softening his tone. "The war chiefs will not be happy with your words."

Deveron waved his hand off in a dismissive gesture as he looked back to the orc leader, his patience wearing thin. "I do not care if they are happy. It is too late to back out now. You and your kinsmen have all committed to see this through. This petty bickering has kept orcs from controlling any significant areas in this region. This is a chance for your kind to take some land and carve out your own destinies. Are you afraid to face the humans of Red Larch, chief?"

Grog'Tur's greasy, balding grey and black hair jostled as he shook his wide head, "No, we do not fear the battle, we hunger for it. It is just there are prideful warriors who still have enemies among other clans, and they do not have the wisdom to see our vision of unification. The smaller clans fear they will get edged out of the spoils, and the larger ones fear each other will turn on them. It's a loose alliance, shaky at best. We are constantly working at resolving concerns from every clan without bloodshed. Only action works best at gaining unity among the warriors. I fear if we wait too long I or anyone who would replace would be unable to keep them together."

Deveron's voice returned to a business like tone, although with no less authority in it. "We have no choice, they will have to wait and keep out of trouble. We have gone over this before. I grow tired of repeating it. If you attack now, the forces of Waterdeep will counter attack within a few days and decimate your warriors. Your men may be fierce, but the Waterdhavians can muster many battle-tested troops in a short time, and then follow with reinforcements in the tens of thousands. We must have time to fortify our position and strike at their supply lines for this to succeed. They are weakened, but not without power. Perhaps I should send some of my men to help keep your warriors in line."

It was more of an idle threat than an offer of assistance and the orc chieftain understood that, and knew better than to take the bait. "No, that won't be necessary. We will get it under control. How much longer are we to wait?" The question came out in a softened, respectful tone.

"Soon, Grog'Tur. I have dispatched this morning one of my aids to check the progress Tu'Grol has made on the fortifications. I would suspect that within two ten-days we shall be ready to attack."

The large orc was hoping it would be sooner, but grunted in acknowledgement. "Perhaps another clan could go and assist them to finish more quickly?"

The wizard shook his dark brown hair, and he made no effort to hide the frustration in his voice, "No, there can be no more orcs in the area, or they will discover the fortification and we will lose the element of surprise. A small group of orcs will only elicit a small response, which will be handled by the Two Stone clan. Our success hinges on the fort remaining hidden. If they know of our forward garrison they will attack it first and then roll on to Red Larch, unheeded. It will be ready soon, you must get your people to be patient, or go back to your petty disputes and live in the shadows of human civilization again. Now go, I have more important things to attend than your complaints."

The large, greenish humanoid pulled at the earring made of a thin leather cord with several bear teeth hanging from them, the symbol of the humanoid's clan as he formulated a wise response. He looked up to the dark robed man as he responded, "I will bring your words to the orc chieftains and make them understand, Lord Deveron."

The black robed man pursed his lips together as he nodded, "Very good Grog'Tur. Don't make me regret my choice of head war chief of this orc army."

The massive orc rose up and gave another slight bow before turning and marching out of the room. Two other guards in the hallway dressed in black clad leather and dark chain mail armor escorted the orc leader to the exit tunnel.

Durken clipped the large axe back to his leather belt. He shook his head, after Grog'Tur was out of earshot. "I hope these pig faced bastards don't ruin your plans, your lordship."

"They will do as I have bid them to. It shall go as planned." He gave a little smirk as he remarked, "But, I do have certain contingencies just in case."

The large bodyguard grinned, causing the large scar running from his lower lip to the back of his left jaw to arc. The warrior knew his master was no fool. Though he was not privy to the specifics of the artful schemes the wizard was engaged in, he knew that the orcs were merely a diversion to his true intentions.


	3. Chapter 2

Dagger of Souls

*** Chapter 2 ***

Keltar stood and waited in a line at the massive gatehouse to gain entrance to the Waterdhavian Palace grounds. The guards wore immaculate chain mail armor covered by the black and gold tabards standard of the Waterdeep guard. Though these guards had a purple slash sewn diagonally through the uniform that denoted they were an elite group assigned to the defense of the city palace. He was a messenger to one of the masked Lords of Waterdeep, and performed various tasks and duties for them. The messenger was dressed in tightly fitted black leather armor with round metal studs protruding at regular intervals on the piece covering his lean torso. He tapped the writ in his hand signed by one of those lords impatiently as he waited for his turn to enter the well guarded gate. He scratched at the stubble on his square jaw as he gazed up in wonder at the gigantic stone structure that sat at the base of Mount Waterdeep, occupied by Lord Piergeron, the only unmasked Lord and head of the city's council. It was an amazing sight to behold up close. The towering white marble walls held large ramparts with banners of many colors, but most were of black and gold, emblazoned with the crest of Waterdeep in the center. Keltar was amazed and grateful at the important position he held as a messenger to one of these powerful leaders. People such as him, who grew up in the streets of the city's downtrodden districts as an orphan, rarely attained such a respected position. Now he served one of the most important men in the greatest city, the City of Splendors, the crown jewel of the Western Heartlands, and probably the most well known on the continent of Faerun. He was the most junior messenger, and one of nearly two dozen, but it was no less prestigious in a city of over a million inhabitants.

He was brought out of his wandering thoughts, as the guardsman spoke to him in a husky voice, "State your business." Keltar gave him a nod and spoke up, "I have been summoned to speak with one of the masked lords." He handed him the official writ he had been given. The guard examined the document and studied him carefully from head to toe. Keltar was used to the abnormal scrutiny, which he endured for most of his years since he was old enough to walk the streets of city. His shoulder length, tasseled hair was unkempt and his face rugged and unshaven. The black leather breeches and matching tunic, as well as the masterfully crafted sword he kept on his belt gave the impression of an unsavory character. He didn't mind since this look is what enabled him to obtain information from the more seedy sections of the vast city, and made him valuable to the city leaders, but it gave the guards pause whenever he had to enter the grounds on the rare occasion he was asked to visit.

The guard unable to find anything wrong with the paperwork reluctantly gave the signal to allow passage to the other guards standing in front of the massive gold-framed stone double doors that lead into the expansive entrance hall. "I will have to take all of your weapons until you are ready to leave."

The messenger untied the leather strings that held the scabbard housing his sword and handed the weapon over to the guard along with two silver daggers that he had concealed within the folds of his armor. He sauntered up the massive entrance steps that were wide enough to fit nearly a dozen carriages abreast. The steps narrowed to the large alcove holding the tall stone double doors that gave entrance to the palace main hall. Once he showed his official writ, the six guards that were blocking the doorway split up and moved to the sides, keeping their gleaming silver spears at the ready while allowing the leather clad man to enter the building.

He pulled the large gold handle of the large stone door and it slid open with surprising ease. He marveled at the master craftsmanship that constructed such a design of elegance, strength and functionality. The entrance hall was equally impressive, with immaculate white marble floors covered with diamond patterns of interweaving gold and black lines that spanned the enormous breadth and width of the room. The floors were polished to the extent that the surface reflected everything around it like a still mountain lake. Towering white pillars rose up to the domed ceiling many stories overhead. The thick columns were as wide in diameter as a tall human was long. Each one of them held intricate fresco carvings depicting famous figures of prominence in the history of the grand city in such life-like detail that it almost appeared that they were trapped in the marble.

The long hall ended with two passages behind a large fountain made with a brass tree design that jettisoned the sparkling blue water back outward in an arc, making it look like numerous handles on a tea cup. Behind the fountain was a large gold and silver standing statue of the Open Lord of Waterdeep. As the head of the council the palace was his to occupy as his own personal residence. He was the only known Lord of Waterdeep. The other Lord's had their identity hidden behind an enchanted mask that not only hid their faces, but disguised their voices as well. This extraordinary precaution kept the council safe from those wishing to gain power through treachery, or from opposing rulers trying to destroy the leadership of the influential city. By far the most popular and fascinating discussions in the many scores of establishments in town were speculation on the identities of these rulers.

The palace steward and two assistants approached Keltar before he passed the first row of columns. The stocky man was dressed in a loose, baggy doublet patterned with thick, black and purple vertical lines. His legs were adorned with skin tight stockings of pearl white. The elegant outfit had ruffled white fringes along the neck and wrists, giving him a pompous flair. He straightened the feathered cap on his curly hair as he looked with obvious disdain at the unrefined clothing the messenger wore. With a haughty sigh, he asked with mild irritation, "What is thy name?"

The man in black leather scowled in return as he answered, "The name is Keltar and I am here at the request of one of the lord's."

The steward unfurled a sheet of parchment wrapped around two elaborate brass rollers and read through the ink covered document. "Yes, yes, very well." He turned to one of the young assistants, "Jerrel take this… ahem... man, to the Cheveral Antechamber straight away." The young lad gave a small curtsy and walked up to Keltar. "Please sir, follow me." The boy was dressed in black and purple striped garb similar to the steward's, though his sleeveless jerkin was much more tight-fitting and did not contain any of the frills, showing his lesser station. The boy led him past the fountain and up several spiral staircases and down a large hallway to a spacious side chamber. The large dark marble hearth in the middle of the left wall was ablaze with a warming fire that dispelled the cold, damp winter air. Several lamps surrounded the room, backed by polished reflectors to amplify the light making it nearly as bright as day inside. "Please wait here while I summon the lord and inform him of your arrival. Help yourself to any of the refreshments." A large oval coffee table made of dark marble on top black iron casts framed in gold filigree sat near the hearth. A silver tray with candied truffles, crackers and wedges of cheese sat atop the table. Several expensive bottles of elven wine, honey mead, and gin sat next to a few empty crystal goblets. Keltar poured some of the honeyed mead in one of the goblets and sipped it as he sat down to wait for his liege to arrive. The cherry oak bench surrounding the table was covered with a plush, velvet padding stuffed with goose feathers and down and was more comfortable than the bed Keltar grew up sleeping on. The other side of the large room held an oval table matching the design of the coffee table, though it was big enough to be surrounded comfortably by a dozen large, plush, high backed cherry wood chairs. It was most likely used for meetings with a larger group of people. Walking down the hall and seeing the other rooms, despite his several visits, the messenger was still amazed that this spacious room was one of the smaller antechambers of the hundreds in the gigantic palace.

Before long a tall man in a finely woven black and silver outfit arrived, flanked by two palace guards and a wispy scribe in light purple robes holding a leather satchel. The tall man's head was covered with a closed helm attached to a metallic shoulder guard. Keltar knew the helm to be the arcane mask that kept the lord's identity hidden. He rose to his feet and bowed respectfully, "My Lord, it is an honor to speak with you again." The tall man held up his gloved hand, his voice came through with an odd harmonic tone that sounded like three voices in different octaves. It was unnerving at first, but it sounded oddly melodic like an estranged voice from the spirit world. "Please Keltar, have a seat."

The messenger returned to the bench and the city leader joined him on the adjacent couch. The lord watched the messenger through the crisscrossed metal over a black void where his face would be. With no eyes to look at it always caused the messenger pause when listening to the city leader. "I hope you are well. You have done such a fine job infiltrating the thieves' guild and exposing the plot to murder Sir Freland of the Dock Ward magistrate that I have decided to send you on another important mission. We have received reports of orc attacks on the small village of Stalford to the northeast. It is odd that such incursions have occurred so close to our city, and in the middle of winter. We also have reports that they have taken both men and women hostages, which again is rare for the humanoids. The ranks of our soldiers are thin, and with winter along we can only spare a few troops to send for what the other lords believe to be an isolated incident. We would like you to defend the town and find out why the orcs are attacking this small village. You may hire some more talented individuals to aid in this quest. I will supply a wagon with provisions and supplies in addition to the soldiers, and three hundred gold coins for you and those you hire upon completion of the investigation. There shall be a bonus if you can rescue any of the captives and return them home safely."

Keltar nodded as he calmly took another sip of mead, "Yes, it does seem out of the ordinary. But I've also heard that those green heathens can be quite unpredictable. I shall be honored to uncover the truth behind this and help the villagers."

"I knew I could count on your support. Go to the Halls of Justice and speak to Sir Bromler, and he shall provide a knight of Tyr to aid you and command the soldiers. The others you wish to aid in the investigation are at your discretion. I expect a detailed report of your findings within a ten-day. I have taken the liberty of drawing up the authorization documents and writs that you will need." He motioned a gloved finger toward the thin, elderly gentleman next to him.

The scrawny man scratched the slim bit of grey hair bordering his bald head and opened the leather satchel. "Yes, yes. I have all the documents here." He hastily removed the parchments and handed them to Keltar. "You are to pick up the driver, wagon, supplies, and soldiers at the Northgate guard house. They will be ready by sunrise tomorrow."

The masked lord stood up and clasped his gloved hands behind his back. "I have other business to attend to, safe journey and may Tymora's blessing of luck be upon you. Once again I thank your for your service to our beloved city."

"And to you, your lordship," the messenger responded solemnly, before he gulped down the last bit of his drink, gathered up the official papers and headed out of the palace.


	4. Chapter 3

Dagger of Souls

Chapter 3

The grey headed paladin of Tyr carefully studied the proclamation the messenger handed him. He raised an aged, bushy eyebrow as he let out a huff. He continued to read the document stamped by the seal of the rulers of Waterdeep with narrowed eyebrows, "By tomorrow! A paladin with experience in the militia. Do you realize how difficult that is?"

Keltar shrugged as he looked at the silver robed clergyman, "It is a matter of importance. There have been kidnappings, and the threat of possibly more attacks from orcs. There have already been arrangements for a handful of city guardsmen. Time is critical when lives are at stake."

"There are attacks, murders, rapes and more in the city alone. Why is this little town of little more than sixty people of such importance?"

Keltar's black leather armor creaked as he shifted his weight, he knew it was a rhetorical question by the aged holy warrior but answered it anyway. Whether he did so out of defense of his employers or to convince himself he wasn't quite sure. "Sir Bromler, the Lord that sent me believes that there is more to these orc attacks and kidnappings than is apparent on the surface. He has convinced the other lords to hold an investigation into the matter, and I am going to do my duty and help in this cause. It is a good gesture to aid one of the surrounding towns in their time of need and let them know they haven't been forgotten for little more than tax collection. Isn't it a primary duty of paladins to protect those in need?"

Sir Bromler relaxed as he exhaled in resignation over the issue. There was little he could do to go against the official orders of a masked lord, especially one of well intention. "Of course it is, but that's not the point. One of my paladin's can protect more people in one city block here than the entire hamlet we are talking about. But, you are in luck that I have a paladin available with experience in the City Guard during the Amnish War, and was promoted to Sergeant following his campaign. His name is Sir Dural Kirmenen. He is off investigating a property dispute in the Dock Ward at the Falvone estate." The paladin captain looked through some parchments of paper stacked on his oak desk and read it quickly. "Ah, here we go. It is on the corner of Riverside and Seacrest Way. He will be tied up there for most of the afternoon, so you can wait and speak with him here after dusk when her returns or go to the estate and pay him a visit."

Keltar took a mental note of the location and nodded as he stood, "Very well. I would like to give him some time to get things ready, so I will go and see him straight away."

The elder, holy warrior stood from behind his desk, and handed him back the parchment from the lord. The messenger thanked the Tyrran clergyman for his begrudged help and left without delay. He strode quickly through the grey marble floors, among the ornate statues to the God of Justice, taking only a minor note of the magnificent splendor of the place of worship. The wide, pristine cobblestone thoroughfares gave way to muddy, rutted narrow streets as he moved southward toward the Dock Ward, the section of Waterdeep where the ports connected the city to the Sea of Swords. It mainly contained shipyards, maritime businesses and warehouses to store imported and exported goods from the ports. It wasn't far from where Keltar grew up, so the streets were very familiar to him. He cut through some back alleys to shorten his trip. The smell of the refuse lying about mixed with rodents, urine and many other smells nearly indescribable assaulted his nasal passages. He ignored the feeling it gave him in his stomach, having been hardened to the sensations for many years of his youth. He stopped his steady trek as he heard rough voices and scuffling sounds coming from somewhere ahead and to the right of him. He turned the corner to investigate drawing his short sword deftly from the leather scabbard on his belt. The back streets of Dock Ward were filled with thieves, muggers and numerous other miscreants, making it a very dangerous place to traverse. He crouched low and moved for a closer view, staying hidden in the shadows of empty crates and bags of refuse. From his new vantage point he spotted the people causing the commotion. A comely woman with a dark blue dress and long auburn hair was surrounded by three dirty men, dressed in filthy rags and brandishing crude clubs and knives.

The woman took a defensive posture, crouching low and ready to strike, though he could tell she was making it look as though she was cowering. He could tell right away that she was not a helpless woman despite her grace and beauty. She sized up the men, and peered around at her escape routes discreetly.

"Give me back that pouch. I am a priestess of Selune and that money is donations for the needy."

The tall, lanky one of the three men, laughed in a wheezy cackle through one of his missing front teeth. "Well, 'course darlin. We're all needy here. But I think we be needin' more than that pouch and that shiny hammer. Those are mighty fine threads ya got there. We'll take that and even give you a little sumthin' for yer troubles." Given the lewd smirk that formed among the dirty stubble on his face, she surmised it was not exactly fair compensation he had in mind. He reached for the material of her dress that covered her bosom attempting to give it a yank. She reacted before he could pull on her clothing by leaning back. She seized and twisted his offending hand, pulling him off balance. Before the surprised ruffian could react, she kicked hard with her boot to his knee. He yelped in pain as his leg buckled and failed to support his weight. She swiftly changed positions to put the downed mugger between her and the other two men.

The two heavier set men were shocked at this unexpected turn of events. The wide expression in their eyes quickly turned to anger as they raised knives poised to strike. She backed away up against the wall. The short stocky man held venom in his growling voice, "Now, why'd ya go and do that, we was just goin' to have some fun with you. Now we gonna haff ta cut you up."

Keltar started to move closer to help even the odds, noticing the man on the ground was gripping the stolen hammer as the other two advanced. He was only able to close half the distance when the woman chanted something he couldn't understand as she held up a silver medallion attached to a leather cord around her neck. There was a blinding flash of silver lightning that struck in the midst of the ragged thieves, bright enough even though he was a good forty feet away it left large blue spots in his eyes. The three men turned and looked every direction. They began groping around with their hands out in front, apparently blinded and trying to find the woman. She slipped to the right and grabbed the heavy set man with dirty blond hair and shoved him hard from behind, causing him to trip over a broken barrel on the ground. The man's momentum caused him to slam headfirst into the nearby wall. The mugger let out a groan as he slumped to the ground unconscious. Her blue dress swirled around her as she spun and kicked the lanky man on the ground holding her hammer. The blow jerked his neck sideways causing him to tumble over, dropping the stolen weapon to the muddy ground. The priestess retrieved her hammer as the last mugger groped along the wall. "Stram, Melch? What's goin' on? Where da wench go?"

The woman held up the hammer, with a satisfied smirk on her face, "I don't think your friends can talk right now. They are suffering from the pain of guilt for their unlawful deeds."

The man spun around to the voice and began to swing a crude piece of lumber with nails wildly in her direction. Keltar moved in quietly behind him and sliced the piece of wood off just beside his hand and then brought the blade up to the man's back. "There is a sharp sword at the back of your ribs, drop to your knees or I will run you through."

The woman was startled and paused trying to figure out the intentions of the stranger that had appeared out of nowhere. She made no move to relax, keeping her steel war hammer at the ready, even though the ruffian dropped to his knees.

Keltar gave the woman a nod and a small smile, then returned his attention to his captive. He swung his sword backhanded, leading fist first and striking the man with the metallic bottom of the sword's pommel. The blow to the back of the head staggered him face first into the cold, wet ground. He looked up and shrugged as he sheathed his masterfully crafted short sword, "I suppose you didn't need my help as I thought you might when I happened upon your encounter. What in Helm's grace are you doing in these crime infested alleys anyway?"

The woman still refused to relax and kept her distance. "I was tricked by a young girl pretending her mother was deathly ill and need urgent assistance. She ran off after we got a few blocks in." She looked a little sheepish at revealing her naivety, but it quickly turned to a stern gaze. "Who are you and what are you doing here if you know this to be a 'crime infested' area?"

The swordsman gave the woman a theatrical bow as he replied, "My name is Keltar. I was just on my way to find a paladin in the service of Tyr. He is settling an estate dispute not far from here and has been assigned to help me with an investigation. I grew up in this ward and know it well enough to tread carefully to avoid trouble." He shook his head, but smiled as he spoke, "That's the oldest trick in the book. 'My mother needs help'. Good thing you know how to defend yourself, despite overly trusting the children of this ward. Unfortunately there are many dishonest kids getting a few coins or in some cases forced under dire threats to lure people into a trap and relieve them of their goods. To whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?"

The woman's face softened as she studied the roguish man, though she relaxed her posture she kept the hammer in her right hand, only a step away from bringing it to bear. "I am Cera Moonleaf, a devout priestess of the Moon goddess. I am here in Waterdeep exploring the city and speaking with the people here, spreading the words of Selune so that they may find comfort from her graces." She looked down and frowned at the three muggers, "and also teaching a few of her wrath at those who would take advantage of others."

Keltar raised his eyebrows, "Yes, I think I am still seeing spots from that display of divine power. I'm glad I was still a good distance away at the time."

Cera giggled at his comment. "Sorry about that. It would have only blinded you had you been close enough."

The messenger was captivated at the sparkle in her soft blue eyes. They held beauty and an inner power that he has rarely seen. He has seen many pretty girls in this vast city, but few had eyes with such a depth and warmth. She stood out in the filth and scum like a radiant flower in a field of dark mud. "No harm done. I was just glad to see you were not hurt. I will stay with these three if you will go and get the city watchmen." The messenger pointed down one of the alleys to their right. "Go three blocks that way and turn right on the road. You will see the guard house a few buildings down on your left. Please do hurry I have to return to finding Sir Dural."

Cera nodded her agreement as she picked up her pouch of coins and secured it to a loop on the dress near her hip. "I shall make all haste and return swiftly. Thank you for your help. I would like to hear more about this assignment of yours, perhaps I could be of some assistance."

Keltar was caught by surprise at her offer. He tried to hide his enthusiasm as he grinned inwardly. Tymora has smiled twice on him this day. First an important assignment and now a beautiful woman with the healing gift was offering to help. "Your aid would be most welcome, Priestess Cera."


	5. Chapter 4

Dagger of Souls

Chapter 4

"I refuse to take down this wall. It has been there for two years now. I'll not stand for it do you hear." The short, rotund man with his graying hair curled to extremes fumed as he stood in an alley between to stone walls, folding his arms in defiance. He looked foppish with the saffron colored fur trimming over a bright green surcoat made of a thick damask cloth. "Falvone is just upset at the fact that we haven't invited his family to the last three feasts and he's trying to just make trouble."

The knight with wavy brown hair and a thick mustache that wrapped around his lips stood facing the brightly colored nobleman. He pinched the bridge of his nose as he tried to calm himself, frustration evident on his weathered features. A small, wiry man in grey robes and a white cap scribed some information onto a thick papyrus sheet, as he stood next to the tall armored man. "Mr. Grendal, I understand your concern and the cost this may cause you."

The round man began pointing his stubby finger furiously at the short stone wall that was barely above the paladin's chest in height. "You have no idea about the expert craftsmanship that was put into construction of this wall around my garden. It is done with the finest stone and hand crafted with flared pillars with the three ringed base and upper supports. It is not something I can just move. It will be either damaged or utterly destroyed if I do."

"That is entirely up to you. You have the option to compensate Mr. Falvone for the encroachment on his property. He has the right to the claim regardless of how long ago you built it. If you offer a fair recompense, I'm sure the Magister will agree to alter the deed. It will cost you less than replacing your wall. It has been measured twice and I found it to be less than ten feet from his manor wall. The law is clear in this matter." The metal overlapping bands of his armor squeaked as he gestured toward the passage between the walls. He was an imposing figure tall, with a thick chest and a fine dark grey wool cape that flowed behind him with silver stitching depicting a set of measuring scales, the symbol of the God of Justice.

The man's furry brow came together as he stared at the knight. "Fair recompense, hah. There is nothing fair about this. Falvone is using the laws just to spite me and rob me of my money and you are just doing his bidding."

The armored warrior clenched the hilt of his broad sword, even though it remained in the scabbard. The sight of it caused the noble to take a step back. Sir Dural pointed at Grendal with his free hand, "I only serve the law, sir." The paladin stressed the word 'sir' in a mocking tone. He continued to speak with his jaw clenched, "If you would have had the wisdom to check the deeds before having this wall constructed then you would not be in this situation. You are free to argue in front of the Magister, after I have given him a report. I'm sure he will have the same conclusion, but would be more than happy to continue to listen to you argue. If you do, your 'fair recompense' may just grow to cover the costs to the Magister's court. I am just informing you of the law. You can decide what to do from there. Good day, sir."

Keltar and Cera spoke together quietly as the argument continued on, only stopping to look at the raised voices and the knight gripping his sword handle. The rotund man turned and left in a huff into his estate. The thin man in robes held up the paper and the knight scribbled on it with a quill, most likely signing the report written by the scribe. The air was cold and a stiff breeze was blowing in from the harbor that could be seen in the distance. Several ships of varying sizes were moored to the dozen or so piers jutting out into the bay. A few rays of sunlight burst through the clouds leaving golden beams down to the water's surface where it shimmered in reflective light.

Keltar sauntered up to the holy warrior in gleaming banded armor and spoke cordially, "Hail and well met! You must be Sir Dural."

The knight glanced at the messenger and straightened himself, his voice still peppered with irritation. "I am he, what do you want?"

"Yes, well. I am Keltar and this is Miss Cera Moonleaf, a priestess of the Moon Goddess." The woman in the blue dress gave him a short curtsy. "I spoke with Sir Bromler at the behest of one of the Masked Lords about an investigation. He asked to have you assigned to this duty."

"I hope it isn't another legal dispute," the knight replied tersely.

The leather clad man shook his head and handed him the writ declaring the assignment, "No, no. It is nothing like that at all. We are looking into orc raids on a village two days outside of the city."

"Orcs, eh. It sounds more interesting than the petty bickering of the wealthy."

Keltar smiled and nodded, "I'm sure it will be. It may be nothing at all, but we are there to find some answers. Apparently in addition to the attacks there were some theft of goods, mostly livestock and food stores and also kidnappings of the local town residents of Stalford. Oh, and we must leave at first light tomorrow. I hope that isn't a problem."

"No. It is not. I will gather my things. If Sir Bromler has sent this decree then I am duty bound to follow it. To tell you the truth, this is much better of an assignment than I've had for a few months, so it is with pleasure I accept."

The holy warrior read a few lines of the writ the messenger handed him. "Kidnappings? I have never heard of orcs taking prisoners other than some women for their own sick pleasure. Even that was rare. Fortunately most orcs are disgusted with human women."

"Apparently there were both women and men taken from the village. But that is why we are investigating some of the oddities of these particular attacks," Keltar commented.

The paladin shrugged his shoulders as he looked over the rest of paper, "North Gate guard house. Wait, only six soldiers. Newly trained recruits, I'd imagine. We'd better hope there isn't much trouble."


	6. Chapter 5

Dagger of Souls

Chapter 5

"Klenn, you need to come in right away. You'll catch your death of cold out there." The slightly plump middle aged woman stood with her fists on her hips as she watched her son outside throwing his axe against a tree stump. This was only the sixteenth winter for her son but he looked more and more like a man every day. She watched his chiseled features with pride as he retrieved his axe from the tree stump where the blade stuck in the center. The wind had died down, so it wasn't as frigid at it had been in the morning. The vast sheets of snow covered just about every inch of the ground, save some spots below the conifer trees that remained green through the winter. The other leafless trees looked like skeletal arms twisting in all directions above the thin coat of slushy snow.

The strong farm boy ran his fingers through his wavy brown hair and rolled his eyes as he responded, "I'll be there in a minute, ma."

"Don't be long, supper will be ready and you need to warm up." Klenn already finished his chores and chopped enough wood for the next several days so she let him continue. The last few days had been tough after the village was in a tumult over the orc raids. The horror of loss over several villagers killed or badly injured and several taken captive and dragged away had taken its toll on everyone in Stalford. Her son took it badly because he was off with his father and wasn't around to help. She tried to tell him he would have been killed if he had tried to help as several other villagers did. He took it worse than others because the neighbor's girl that her son had feelings for was taken in the raid. His papa had to restrain him from trying to follow the tracks and catch up to the bloodthirsty orcs. Life finally had returned to somewhat normal, though what was considered normal had forever changed. The fear of another attack made everyone tense and restless, the feelings of safety and security in their homes was gone and they felt exposed and vulnerable.

The farm boy setup and threw another axe, scoring another direct hit on the 'x' mark he carved on the tree stump. The steel blade of the axe cleaved itself halfway into the thick bark sending a few wood chips flying in several directions. The snow crunched beneath his boots as he retrieved his axe.

Klenn's senses were always on the alert with the ever ominous threat of attack looming over them like a suffocating haze of thick smoke. He noticed movement from the side of their small cottage, on the opposite side of their stable. He heard slow, deliberate light footsteps in the snow that he recognized from tracking animals in the wilderness with his father as something prowling for prey. He took his axe and walked to the side keeping the figure to the right within his peripheral vision but without giving inidication he spotted whatever it was. He gripped the handle of his axe for a quick throw.

The figure stepped into the open and reared back to throw, but the farmboy halted his reaction as the object came toward him. He made no movement to dodge, though it would have been easy enough. The ball of snow hit him squarely in the chest. He wiped it off as he shook his head at his seven year old sister.

"I got you. I got you Klenny!" The little red headed girl boasted as she grinned from ear to ear.

He gave her a reassuring smile, and stared at her for a few moments. She was such a sweet and care-free child and it took away his will to chastise her for being outside alone. He knew that there were several families that have had that innocence shattered by the vile green invaders that violated the sanctity of their village. Their children's youthful exuberance evaporated forever as they realized the evil that exists in this world, and that they can't be completely protected. His sister still had her blissful smile for the time being. "You shouldn't be out here by yourself. If you want to play outside, come get me first and I'll come play with you."

Her grin stopped and she pursed her lips at the small reprimand, "But you were _already_ outside, so I came to play with you."

The farm boy put his arm around her shoulder, not sure what to say to warn her of the danger without shattering her peace of mind. "Come on let's go eat some lunch. Mama will be very upset if she knew you came outside without telling someone first."

"Please don't tell her Klenny. I just wanted to play snowball fight with you."

He sighed and patted her head, but before he could respond he heard a woman's earsplitting scream coming from somewhere across the village. The sound made him and his sister flinch.

"Go inside to mother and lock the doors, Alura. Hurry!"

The urgency in her brother's voice and the shrill scream had her scared and she started to cry as she turned back toward him, "What about you? Come in with us Klenny."

He gave her a nod, but pushed her toward the door. "I will be back in a few minutes, I just want to check and make sure everything is alright. It's probably nothing, just someone who hurt themselves by accident. It won't take long."

The girl was hesitant but complied with his wishes and went inside the home. As soon as she closed the door, he gripped his throwing axe and sprinted toward the source of the sound. He seriously doubted from that scream it was just a mere accident, but he didn't want his little sister to worry about him. The snow crunched beneath his feet as he ran across the main dirt road. It was mostly covered with packed white snow, but it was muddied a bit from the traffic of horses, wagons and people milling about the small hamlet with their daily activities. He ran between old man Forlich's house and the lanky carpenter Frielen's place. Forlich was laying face first in the snow with a crimson pool expanding underneath his right shoulder. He noticed Forlich's wife in the window with tears in her eyes and a frantic look of fear etched in her middle-aged face. Their barn was filled with all sorts of noise from the frightened animals. The barn door lay wide open and a few goats and a horse charged out from it.

The farm boy checked the older man and found him barely breathing but unconscious. He carefully lifted the man in his arms and walked toward the house. "Gelda, open the door," he yelled urgently.

The woman left the window and rushed to the back door and opened it promptly. He set the injured man on a padded bench in their living room. He took out his handkerchief from his pocket and held it over the man's heavily bleeding shoulder. He craned his neck back to look at the housewife and get her attention, "Go get some cloth to wrap around his shoulder," he asked urgently. He checked the man for other wounds, but couldn't see any.

The woman was dazed and sobbing, but when she heard his plea she acted quickly and grabbed some linen sheets from the bedroom. Klenn took the sheet and tore a large strip of it and wrapped it around the man's shoulder tightly to stem the flow of blood. The woman stared at the wall with tears streaming down her eyes, unable to look at her injured husband. He grabbed the elder woman by the shoulder and looked her in the eye trying to get her to focus. "You have to change this cloth when it's full of blood. Make it tight so it slows the blood flow. He should be alright if you stop the blood loss. How many orcs were there?"

The woman stammered and shook her head, "I, I'm not sure. Maybe ten of them. Some went in the barn. The others went farther that way," she pointed toward the east where more cottages in the village were. The strong farm boy nodded and bounded out the back door. He spotted three of the orcs dragging bleeding goats from the barn. He ignored those thieving brutes and went to the opposite side of the barn looking for the remaining orcs. He knew the others could be looking for people to take as prisoners. He couldn't allow that to happen again to his friends and neighbors. He made it to the back of the next house and heard another scream and a man yelling. He saw the back door was busted and split in half hanging partially out of the doorway. Two orcs emerged dragging a blonde girl close to his age by her long hair. She was screaming in pain and terror, wildly swatting at their big green hands trying desperately to get them to release their strong grip.

Klenn reared back his steel axe as they moved far enough into the open. They were too busy with the struggling woman to see him at the side of the house. He threw the axe with all of his strength. It made a series of low whistle sounds as it spun through the air. The blade embedded itself several inches in the side of the humanoids wide green head. The orc fell against the other one and then collapsed to the ground. The second orc gritted its yellow stained teeth and turned toward the threat. Those black eyes were filled with hatred and contempt. Klenn's dark green eyes held the same look as he held his woodcutting axe in his palm. "Come on pig man. Try fighting someone with a weapon, you gutless coward!"

The humanoid probably couldn't comprehend the words, but he recognized the challenging posture and tone. The marauder released the young girl's hair causing her to fall to the snowy ground. She rolled over on her stomach and crawled back inside the house as the orc approached the farm boy. "Jurg Furlach Hoo'mon, Maal G'Turl," the humanoid snarled in response as he charged with the spear tip of his large war axe.

Klenn readied himself but was surprised out how swiftly the large orc moved, the deadly spear aimed at him made his heart race and he began to feel stiff with fear. He thought about them abducting Tarla, the girl who he liked very much. Her reddish brown hair, long and silky smooth was dragged off to a horrible fate like they tried with this blonde girl. The thought enraged him and he forced his body respond. He ducked under the thrust from the spear end of the axe. The orc skidded to a stop and then twisted its torso and brought the axe end around to bear toward him from high to low at a diagonal angle. Klenn lunged to the side rolling on the ground to avoid the sharp blade. It crashed into the ground next to his leg, only an inch away from cleaving his foot in half.

The orc moved in for another strike as Klenn was trying to get back to his feet. Seeing he had no time, he instead swung the axe in one hand toward its stocky green legs. The orc was able to move clear of the weak blow but the maneuver gave him enough time to get to his feet again. The orc lunged with the spear end of the axe toward his chest, but the teenage boy twisted away from the sharp tip just in time. Klenn retaliated with a vicious downward chop, which was pushed aside easily by the haft of the orc's weapon. The orc followed with a right hand punch that landed on the boy's cheek. The humanoid let out a snide laugh at the clumsy attack, further exposing the two menacing tusks protruding up from its dark lower lip.

The strike stunned Klenn and he staggered back a few steps, struggling to keep on his feet. The orc's grin taunted him further. He shook off the pain and steadied himself for another attack. The orc stepped in again leading with the spear tip in a quick thrust. The farm boy side stepped to the left, but the sly orc warrior anticipated his movement and was already pivoting on his front foot and twisting to bring the axe around in a wide arc at mid level. There was no time to dodge the blow, so he tried to block with his axe handle. It only slowed the strong attack. The axe blade slammed into his stomach and lifted him in the air. He crashed hard into the cottage as his head thumped against the wooden wall. The world became foggy and then faded into darkness.


	7. Chapter 6

Dagger of Souls

Chapter 6

The next morning was crisp and cool as the deep blue skies paled under the sun rising through the buildings to the east. Keltar pulled on the reigns of his chestnut gelding, bringing it to a halt at the stone framed wooden guardhouse. The Moonmaiden priestess riding just behind him directed her grey filly beside his. The messenger dismounted gracefully and tied the reigns of his horse and Cera's to the post just outside the entrance to the wooden building. The priestess no longer wore the blue dress from the previous day but now she was covered with close fitted chain mail armor under a blue tabard with a moon and star symbol stitched in silver thread. Her grey wool cape twisted around her from the cold, gusty wind as she descended from the saddle. Keltar opened the wooden door to the guard house then stood behind it allowing the armored woman to enter. She had her auburn hair tied with a blue ribbon behind her. The priestess walked with a sure gait, confident yet not arrogant. Most women he met with her physical qualities were haughty and rude to all who weren't at their stature in the hierarchy of nobility or station. He followed her as she stepped in the doorway. A half dozen soldiers were milling about, some at a table having mugs of some beverage while others were sharpening weapons, adjusting armor or talking amongst themselves. The walls were drab and unadorned other than a few wooden tables and racks of spears, long swords, and crossbows along the walls.

One of the two soldiers speaking nearest the door turned his attention to the new arrivals. "Yeah, what do you want?" the man asked with very little enthusiasm. The other soldiers stared at Cera their eyes lingering on her form displayed under the shapely fitted armor. If she noticed their behavior she was ignoring them and only watching the guardsman speaking.

"I am Keltar. We are investigating the orc raids in Stalford and I am here to pick up a compliment of soldiers assigned to us. Sir Dural should be along shortly to command the troops."

"Sergeant Dural is already in the training room in the back, going over some things with the men. A wagon and driver are waiting in the rear of the building with supplies and rations loaded. There was also a message for you, Sir Keltar." The soldier with short-cropped blonde hair headed over to a table and grabbed a sealed scroll and handed it to him.

Keltar examined the waxed seal on the rolled up document. It was marked with the distinctive signet of the Masked Lords. He glanced back at the soldier, "Thank you. But it is just Keltar. I am no knight or noble. I am just someone in service of Waterdeep as are you." He broke the seal and read through the lines of hastily scribbled ink.

The priestess' auburn lochs brushed gently against his shoulder as she moved close to peek at the parchment. "Change of plans?"

He was a bit flushed at the angelic woman standing so close to him and suddenly felt self conscious about his rough appearance. He tried to ignore the strange feeling as looked into her azure orbs. "No, it seems they were able to convince the Watchful Order of Magists and Arcanists to send us an elven wizard to join our team. That is good news." A concerned look creased in his rough shaven face, as he brushed a greasy strand of his dark brown hair behind his ear.

"You don't look very happy about it. What's wrong?" Cera asked with a touch of concern in her voice.

"No, it is good news. But it's nothing. I'm just a little superstitious. Everything has gone a little too well so far. Many times when things start off really well, they end up very badly."

The priestess held her slender fingers over her cherry colored lips as she giggled and rolled her eyes. He hardly believed this was the same woman who crushed the strong armed attackers in the alley, she seemed so physical and sure. But sometimes like now she seemed to look at the world with child-like wonder and glee, which was refreshing to see the stark difference of her outlook from the gloomy attitudes of those in the city stuck in their class survival roles. She stopped her chuckling but kept a smile as she commented, "I don't think you're superstitious, but I think you're a bit cynical. I'm sure we will be able to handle whatever challenges arise."

Before he could respond, the wooden door behind them was pushed open and a short, lithe figure just an inch or two under Cera's height glided into the small entrance room. He was wearing thick, dark green robes with an oak brown cape wrapped around his slender shoulders and clasped with an emerald studded pin just below the nape of his neck. He pushed the cowl of his cloak down and shook his long, straight blonde hair free of the hood. His angular face and long pointed ears marked him as one of full Elvish blood. "I'm here to offer my services to a man named Keltar."

The messenger nodded, "You've found him elf friend. Well met. We welcome your assistance." He indicated the woman beside him, "This is Cera Moonleaf, a priestess of Selune and in the back with the soldiers is Sir Dural, knight of Tyr. I just got word that a member of the Watchful Order of Magists and Arcanists would be joining us."

The elf gazed at the pair as if sizing them up before he responded, "Well met. I am Einlan of the House of Moirilil." The elf gave a slight bow of respect before continuing, "I am an Arcanist yes, but only an initiate of the Order. This assignment was given to me as part of my requirements for full membership. I was told very little of this quest, perhaps you could provide me with the essential information."

"We have a wagon waiting. I will fill you in on the details on the way to Stalford. This time of year we will probably hit some snow that will slow our travel so it would be best to get started immediately."

The blonde soldier watched with only casual interest at the exchange, but responded to the last statement, "I'll take you to the Sergeant and soldiers assigned to your quest."

The group followed the watchman to a room near the back of the small building. Inside they noticed several straw figures balanced on wooden stands stood to one side, and several stacks of hay with red and white alternating circular rings painted on the side were lined up on the far wall. Several racks of weapons sat opposite the targets.

Sir Dural was off to the right side of the room instructing the six soldiers, who indeed looked like fresh recruits just out of training. Not one of them looked like they had seen more than eighteen winters. Though they carried long swords and spears they probably have never used the weapons for more than an epic duel with a straw training dummy, or a bout with a tenacious sewer rat. Keltar hoped that they would not be forced to find out about real combat. Though he had a feeling they were going to have to grow up real fast.

Keltar turned his attention to the knight, "Sir Dural. Good morning to you. This is Einlan, an arcanist assigned to our quest."

After the tall knight returned the greeting and proceeded to introduce them all to the soldiers, the messenger asked, "Are you and your men ready to go?"

The sergeant gave only a half nod, "As ready as we will ever be."

He deduced a hidden meaning from his statement that these recruits were not quite ready for action. Alas, there was not much choice in the matter since the city's military resources were a scarce commodity due to the recent Amnish war that heavily reduced the ranks of soldiers. He didn't have time to get into and he knew very well that Sir Dural understood this as well as anyone since he was heavily involved in that war. "Very well, Sergeant. Let us be on our way."

The motley group exited the rear of the building where a large wooden cart was connected to a team of four stout workhorses that stood waiting for them. The soldiers climbed into the back of the open wagon.

Keltar stopped Dural before he entered, "Could you please fill in Einlan with the details of this investigation?"

The paladin gave a simple nod of agreement in response as he climbed up into the cart. Einlan followed the holy warrior and sat near the rear.

Cera and Keltar took the lead with their mounts as they trotted side by side in front of the wagon. The cart's driver, an older man with short cropped grey hair and a thick, wavy grey beard and bushy mustache whipped the reigns and called out to the horses. The two lead horses responded and dropped their heads down as they moved forward to pull on the large weight behind them and they were soon on their way rolling through town.

Sir Dural watched the lithe figure in green robes and spoke up. "So you're with the Order of Magists and Arcanists?"

The elf nodded, "I am an apprentice wizard and not a full member yet. I was asked by my sponsor to help with this mission as a favor to one of the Lord's of Waterdeep, and was asked to complete this duty as one of my requisites for acceptance."

"I served in the war with a few of the Arcanists from the Order. They were a great help during the battle. We also lost several of those mages in some of the more intense battles. I didn't get much of a chance to know most of them well, although I did serve a while with a Tilvari Q'uesnari, a sun elf mage. He kept to himself for the most part, but we were fortunate to have him in our squad. He came to the aid of the soldiers whenever they were in trouble and risked his life on several occasions for them. He gained the respect of all of us.

The elf cocked his head as he tried to remember the name. "I have not heard of him, but there are many in the Order of elvish descent."

"Aye. Many elf friends served during the war in various capacities, as well as the other races. Such a senseless war because of the greed of those Sultans and fat merchants trying to stake claim to the newly discovered gold and platinum mines southeast of Candlekeep. I suppose they figured Waterdeep would cave in and not have the heart to enforce our borders. I was glad to see the Lords did not waiver and put an end to the incursions. They could have just partnered or had some of their representatives purchase the land from within Waterdeep and claimed a few of the mines through proper channels, but they wanted it all for themselves. I'm sure there were some merchants that supplied the war effort that profited from the whole thing, if not the same merchants that pushed for the war in the first place."

The elf shrugged his shoulders in response. "I've heard much the same from many people involved in it. Now about the current struggle?"

Sir Dural shook his head realizing he went off on a big tangent. "Yes, sorry about that. It appears that Keltar is working as a messenger for one of the Lord's of Waterdeep and he was asked to investigate a series of orc attacks on a tiny village of Stalford two days ride northeast of here. The orcs stole food stores and kidnapped people, both male and female which they deemed as very odd. We have been sent to investigate the attacks and help defend the village and if possible search and rescue the captives. Hopefully we can find the location of where the orcs have setup their encampment and assess the situation from there." He looked over to the soldiers and didn't want to go into more detail. He was worried to mention the fact that he would like to strike the orc camp, but with the inexperienced soldiers he didn't feel confident in taking that action. If they found the camp he would more than likely recommend Keltar request additional forces to deal with the threat.

The elf seemed to listen intently to the briefing, but made no comment. He also looked over at the soldiers and then nodded.

The group continued down the vast cobblestone thoroughfares and passed the city's northern gate, a massive stone portal wide enough for fifty horsemen to pass through side by side. The gate was set in a huge stone wall that was wide enough to fit three of their carriages and tall enough for three levels of rooms. The enormous wall they breached continued the length and breadth of the expansive city, standing guard as it has for thousands of years to ward off would-be invaders. Shortly after, they marched through another identical gate in the outermost wall of the city. More than a score of archers and crossbowman watched from atop the battlements on both sides of the gate as they crossed the final boundary and proceeded down the wide trade road that lead to the north and northeastern sections of the Western Heartlands. The soldiers stared wide-eyed from their bouncing seats as the city's tall buildings, sky reaching spires, and snow capped Mount Waterdeep slowly shrank away from their sight.


	8. Chapter 7

Dagger of Souls

Dagger of Souls

Chapter 7

The morning sun climbed high enough to light the small encampment as it filtered through the bare branches of the surrounding trees and sparse evergreens creating intricate patterns of light and shadow. The prisoners from Stalford were hard at work moving thick logs that were cut to equal lengths. A captive villager named Grellis was separated from the others where he was suspended from a thick tree limb of an old oak tree. The back of his short, sandy blonde hair was caked with dried blood where he was beat in the back of the head before being dragged to the tree. An orc guard stood behind him and removed a whip like object from his thick belt on his leather armor.

"You.. hoo-mons make me sick," the burly green-skinned orc growled at the prisoner as he held his face up by pulling on his beard so he could look him in the eye. The captive man was dirty and covered in sweat and fresh horizontal lines of dark red blood on his pale bare back. He shook in the chill winter air, whether from the cold or the intense pain or a combination of both wasn't certain. He couldn't move from the rope tied around his wrists and slung over a tree limb that kept him upright with his feet barely touching the mud-snow mixture on the ground.

The muscular orc held a small wooden handle with several long, leather strings with wooden beads attached to them at various intervals. He raised it up in the air and then brought it down hard causing it to crack as it whipped across the human's exposed back. The man let out a scream from the intense pain as more blood flowed freely down his back further staining the top of his tattered brown pants. The pale, green skinned humanoid grunted in a guttural voice, "You work harder. We no need hoo-mons, if you work bad. You want live, you work more!"

After the man made no reply other than sobbing, the orc grabbed his short, sandy blonde hair and yanked it hard. "You hear me, hoo-mon?"

In between ragged breaths the frightened man was able to respond in a broken voice, "Please… don't kill me. I'll work harder."

The large orc gave a satisfied grunt and put the crude whip-like device back on his large belt. He looked up and saw a hooded man approaching the camp on a black stallion. Several orc soldiers surrounded him immediately. He handed them a parchment and they looked at it and each other in apparent confusion. They turned toward the orc with the whip and yelled to him in their guttural language. "Sho'Varg. This human has a paper in their tongue. Can you read it?"

The orc was expecting a human in black robes to come pay a visit. He had seen them before. The agents of Deveron had come to check on their progress a few times. If this was the same agent he couldn't tell since they never fully showed their faces. "No, I can't read their language only speak some words. Check the symbol on the paper. You were shown which one is the mark of the Cult."

The warrior grunted an acknowledgement and pulled out a paper with a symbol from his belt pouch. He looked at the paper again to make sure the symbols matched before allowing the human to pass. Another younger orc was sent to fetch the tribal leader Tu'Grol, but the old warrior was already moving to greet the agent having heard the conversation from his command tent.

Arlin and the other prisoners stopped their back breaking work lifting and tying off the vertical logs that were being used for the walls of the fortification to watch the new visitor. Looks of apprehension were apparent on each of their dirty, sweaty faces. The captive farmer no longer held out hope that visits from these men of their race would help their plight. He knew that somehow these men were in league with the orc monsters and were even giving them orders. Worse yet, they had collected the captive women and took them away. Women from their village were taken somewhere for what purpose, only the gods would know. He could tell from how they grabbed the girls like a rabbit pulled from a trap before they skinned it that they were not going to be released from danger. Their fate was much likely worse than the forced labor the male captives of the village had to endure. Arlin was just a simple farmer, working and trying to survive in the northern part of the Western Heartlands of Faerun. He made enough money to have a modest house, with his wife Savarah and their two boys Jelric and Andel. They were able to have plenty of food on the table from things they grew themselves or from people they traded with in their home village of Stalford. It was a simple life, but usually a quiet and enjoyable one. Arlin's only solace was that his young wife had not been captured yet. But that could soon change the next time these pig faced bastards raided their village again. He had to find a way to get free and find help. He reached behind his thick brown hair and pulled at the leather collar around his neck, which was attached to a long rope tied to a heavy log as were the other four farmers that were connected with him. The collar was tied with leather strings around the rope loop in the back of his neck. He couldn't see it but instead tried to feel the knot and pulled on it to test it.

Another orc guard saw them stop their work and growled at them as he pointed at the unfinished section of outer wall, "D'vaas Krug Low'Chuk, Hoo-mon!" The farmer couldn't understand their language, but it was apparent that they were to get back to work. He stopped his prodding with his collar and he and the other farmers went back to working on the log walls. They feared to get a bloody whipping like Grellis just received. They were exhausted, but fear kept them moving. Arlin took one last glance at the cloaked human speaking with the orc leader, wondering what they could be discussing.

Tu'Grol greeted the Cult agent with resigned indifference. "You bring news, human?"

The man beneath the deep cowl drew his eyebrows together and scoffed at the question. "I am no messenger, but I have come to check your progress. The other orcs have complained that your clan is holding up the war effort. They are ready to fight and they are forced to wait for you to complete this simple task."

"Let them begin the attack, if they can't wait!"

The agent was clearly frustrated and scowled deeply, "You know very well that we need this base ready so that we can attack the supply lines and reinforcements once you take Red Larch. You must finish quickly so we can proceed."

The orc leader let out a growl of frustration as he answered, "we are working as fast as possible. These humans are slow and weak! They..."

"I wasn't sent here to collect excuses," the agent interrupted with a sharp, agitated voice, as he glowered at the orc leader.

The orc guard standing nearby couldn't understand the human, but understood his tone and the fact that he cut off their leader while talking, which was a blatant act of disrespect. He grabbed the smaller man at his shoulder. Faster than he could blink the man in black robes whirled around behind the orc, yanked the guard's wild black hair back and held a silver dagger against his broad green throat. The second guard pulled out his large axe, but the chieftain motioned for him to back down.

Tu'Grol shook his head and spoke to the guards in their native tongue as he scowled at them. "Put your weapons away. We will have war soon. I'll deal with this hoo-mon. For now, he is our ally."

The orc guard put his axe back on the clip on his wide leather belt. The other guard with the knife at his neck put his hands up in a peaceful gesture.

The agent released the green-skinned humanoid and twirled the dagger skillfully before he returned it to a hidden sheath underneath his cloak. He stepped over next to the war chief, his voice turned to a hiss, "Be warned. The next act of aggression will result in a swift death." It was no idle threat. His eyes belied the dangerous intent and resolve to kill without hesitation. His voice returned to somewhat normal, but strained, "You have been given five days by the good graces of our Lord Deveron, do not fail us. You also need supplies to last several ten-days, once this starts there will be no chance to re-supply you. Your guards seem restless and able enough. I suggest you put them to work."

Tu'Grol did not look happy about the ultimatum, but he was wise enough to know failure means the other clans or Deveron's assassins like this agent would be sent to deal with him and his tribe. His orcs were already either guarding the camp or sent on raids making the task near impossible, but he was not going to argue. "We will be ready on time."

The human looked at him with a weary eye, seeming to bore into the humanoid and merit his words carefully. "See that you do. Did you obtain any young female prisoners?"

The orc nodded, "Just one girl. She is tied up in my tent."

The agent raised an eyebrow as well as his voice. "She is to remain pure…"

The large orc leader shook his head vehemently. "No. No, I just put her in my tent so she would be separated from the others. She has been treated well enough."

"Good. Bring her out and I shall be on my way. I will return in a few days to check your progress again. He looked over at the two outer walls of the fort and the third one barely started and no roof at all. "I hope for your sake it is much closer to completion."


	9. Chapter 8

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I apologize for not putting out more chapters for a while. I wanted to get the words, spelling and everything perfect and went through 7 or 8 edits for each chapter and kept going back to fix little things I didn't like and ended up getting burned out with the process of editing constantly. I will finish up and only go through once or twice and publish it as is and possibly go back later and refine it. I actually have about 17 chapters already done, just needed some tweaking, so more will come out on a regular basis, if anyone is interested.

Dagger of Souls

*** Chapter 8 ***

Klenn opened his eyes and saw a warm fire burning in the rough stone hearth to his left. The modest sized room was decorated with simple but elegant pastel drapes. He wondered how he got to the healer, Hadenna's house. He saw several people laying down around him wrapped in bandages laying on a bed of hay similar to his. He felt the bandage over his forehead and wrapped around to the back of his head and could tell it was the source of the throbbing pain. The memories began to resurface of him slamming into the wall after the orc lifted him with the axe. It only served to increase the pain he felt.

Hadenna spotted him looking around and gave a small smile when he noticed her. She adjusted the bun in her auburn hair as she walked over to his makeshift bed. The farm boy stared at her for a few moments, as she approached. Her forty years had not diminished the luster in her hair or the light in her brown eyes. She was a nice lady and generous to the villagers and always had a smile and a kind word for everyone she dealt with. He felt lucky to be in her care. She sat down next to him and put her slender hand on his broad shoulder. "I'm so glad to see you awake, Klenn. You are lucky to be alive."

He nodded slowly, the headache dulling his movements. "I wasn't sure I survived. I couldn't sit by and watch them take our people. I guess it didn't do any good." His face soured as he realized how foolish he had been to fight experienced and ruthless orc warriors.

The healer studied his young face, "No, Klenn. It was very brave of you. Dalea, the young girl who was being taken forcibly is back with her family because of you. She told us how you killed one of her captors and forced the other one away from her."

He felt better at hearing those words from someone as respected as Hadenna. "So the orcs ran off without taking prisoners?"

The elder woman sighed and shook her head. "No. They took another girl, Korli from a cottage farther down from where you were. They killed her father and injured her mother." She pointed to the injured woman wrapped in bandages on the opposite side of the room. She turned back to Klenn and gave him a stern look. "But if it weren't for you they would have taken two girls or more."

Despite her praise, he felt bad that he failed to prevent another victim from being removed. He should have been killed, but now has to live with his stupidity and suffer the admonition of his mother who warned him not to get involved. "How did I survive? I was cut badly and knocked unconscious."

"You are a tough young man, Klenn. The orc left you for dead and moved on to gather the livestock and two stolen horses to carry a few goats and pigs. When they left the immediate area, Dalea and her father came out of their house and bandaged you up and her father and several other townspeople carried you here. Her father, Merle, beamed with pride and told everyone in the village of your courageous rescue of his only daughter. You had a deep cut just below your ribs, but nothing was broken. I sewed it up good, the cold snow kept it from bleeding too quickly. You had a nasty bump on your head and a minor concussion. Not too bad, all things considered."

He could only nod his head at her complimentary words. He wasn't sure how he felt about his feeble rescue attempt. He was glad for the girl, but still felt inadequate as the realization that he couldn't even best one of the green skins in a straight fight. He was only fortunate he took out one with a well thrown axe by surprise. He was sure of his skill with an axe could defeat at least one orc. They were stronger than he realized, and more cunning. He thought they were dumb as oxen, and it was a deadly mistake on his part. He felt the stitching on his stomach and the pang of hunger. He licked his dry lips as he inquired, "My head still hurts something awful. How long have I been out?"

Her brown eyes searched his as if reading his mind. "You've been out for two days straight. I have some herbs that should help with the pain. I'll bring them with some water. You must be starving. I'll have my daughter bring you some soup as well."

"Thanks ma'am." He looked at the fire as the thoughts in his mind seemed to make the headache worse. The situation seemed so hopeless. "We can't stop them, we may not have much of a village left after a few more raids," he blurted out in a somber tone. A defeated look was plastered on his young face.

Hadenna gave him a warm smile, "I forgot you haven't heard yet. A group of people from Waterdeep arrived a few hours ago with soldiers to investigate the orc raids. They have finally answered our pleas, praise be to the Great Mother."

Klenn sat upright on his elbows at the news. The searing pain shot up through him and made him lose his vision for a second. The healer gently urged him to lie back down. He complied without resistance, the pain of propping himself up was unbearable. He had hoped to see if he could arise. He wanted to meet the soldiers. After being bested by the orc, he wanted to learn from them how to fight properly so he could help. He grabbed the healer's arm urgently, "Please Ms. Hadenna. How long will it be until I can move around normally?"

She saw the eager look in his eye and lifted his shirt to inspect the wound on his stomach, and then felt the bump on the back of his head with the practiced skill of her craft. "It is hard to say for certain, but I would guess at the rate you've been healing you'll be able to move around in two to three days. But it'll be weeks before you can engage in any physical activity."

The sparkle of enthusiasm wilted in his eyes as he let out a deep sigh. He could only hope these strangers from the big city could somehow save Tarla from the orcs. She would be as good as dead in a few weeks if she wasn't already.

She saw the look of dejection on his face and put a gentle hand on his cheek. "Don't you worry Klenn. This group looks promising, I think they will be a big help. Sergeant Dural, the leader of the soldiers brought here, heard of your battle from the villagers. He was impressed at how you dispatched one orc and held your own against another with no formal combat training. He wanted to meet you when you awoke. After you get some food, I'll arrange for him to see you."

The farm boy smiled for the first time since the orc attacks. His eyes began to gloss as he felt a surge of pride he had never before experienced and best of all… hope. His headache even began to feel better. "I would very much like to meet him."


	10. Chapter 9

Dagger of Souls

*** Chapter 9 ***

"The tracks should be easy to follow in the snow," Keltar stated as he viewed the numerous tracks from the southern side of the farming community. He looked up trying to gauge the time of day, which was difficult because of the grey clouds that blanketed the entire sky, but he knew it was late afternoon. It was fortunate that no snow had come along to bury them the last few days.

"I'll send some of the soldiers with you, then." Sir Dural stated calmly.

The Lord's messenger shook his head emphatically. "No. I can make better time by myself and if they have an ambush waiting I am not encumbered and evade capture much easier alone."

The elf stood nearby with his arms folded within his dark green robes as he looked over the tracks and the two men speaking with a meticulous gaze from his almond shaped eyes. "Perhaps I could help. I am not burdened by armor and if they do have a trap setup my arcane skills would be beneficial."

"I work alone when I am scouting. I can better escape if there is nobody to look after," Keltar commented indignantly.

The elf raised an eyebrow and studied him for a few moments. "How many times have you scouted in this type of weather and terrain?"

Keltar's face suddenly took on a reddish hue as he bit his lip. "In this terrain? Well, very little with this exact terrain, but it is much more difficult to scout ahead in cities where there are plenty of people and sounds to drown out what you are looking for. I have a practiced ear for noticing where people are that are trying to avoid detection."

Einlan gave him a condescending look from within his deep cowl. "It is very different in the wilderness. The distinct sounds of creatures in the wood are not easy to distinguish without an ample amount of experience. The difference between a fox, a small bear or an orc hiding in waiting, are difficult to discern without proper woodland knowledge. I spent nearly twenty years in cities, but over seventy in woods and terrain similar to this."

"Fine," the roguish man acquiesced in a huff, having no sufficient argument to counter the elf's reasoning. The truth of his reluctance was a matter of trust and the Arcanist had revealed very little to gain that trust. "You can join me and find out where their trail leads. With your experience in the woods, you can probably follow the tracks easier than me." Keltar didn't mean it as a compliment, but thought he could better keep an eye on this elf while he was in easy view.

The robed man flashed a smirk, before returning his scrutiny to the tracks on the white surface.

The heavily armored paladin watched the exchange and commented after they finished speaking, "The villagers I questioned have said the orcs approached from different directions each time they attacked. Either they are moving their encampment periodically or they are taking precautions to make their tracks difficult to follow. My men will set up a defensive perimeter around the village and station watches and patrols. Identify yourself when you return close to camp, so they don't raise an alarm. The soldiers will be dressed as villagers so any orc scouts will not be warned of our presence here and increase the size of their raiding party."

The messenger merely nodded to the knight and turned back to Einlan. "There's only a few hours of daylight left. I guess we should get started."

"I am ready. The tracks are easy enough to follow, I'll move quickly. Whistle if I get too far ahead."

It was Keltar's turn to raise an eyebrow at the arrogant comment, though it wasn't as noticeable since his long bangs obscured his eyebrows. He pulled the light crossbow that was slung over his shoulder out and loaded it with a steel tipped bolt, locking the tightly wound string back against the trigger. The elf glanced back briefly and began to follow the footprints as they headed toward the south.

Einlan stopped and looked around a few hundred yards from the nearest cottages and surveyed the ground. Keltar halted behind him and looked down to see what he was studying.

The elf circled some of the large tracks as he spoke. "The tracks converge here. It appears as if they split up at this point and attacked the village in several smaller groups. The tracks coming in to this point with the additional horse tracks here show they returned to this spot and it appears that they are following their own trail back. This would make it easier for us to follow, which seems a little curious."

The messenger shrugged, "They probably figured that nobody would come to the aid of these people and the farmers wouldn't be bold enough to try and follow them to their camp, or they were just simply worried about losing their way back."

The elf began to move and follow the tracks without answering or commenting, which further annoyed the roguish warrior. He sighed and followed behind as the wizard began to move swiftly on a course parallel to the tracks.

They continued for over a mile at a brisk pace, causing Keltar to hurry and focus on avoiding tripping over obstacles just beneath the snow which gave him very little time to listen or look for an ambush. The reckless pace concerned him, but he wasn't about to feed the wizard's ego by asking him to slow down and admit he was having trouble keeping up. He was winded from the pace and nearly tripped a dozen times over loose rocks, exposed roots and tangled overgrowth, but the slender elf moved through the wilderness with graceful ease and showed no signs of tiring. The tracks ended in a large, bubbling brook that brought the elf to a halt, much to the messenger's relief.

Keltar kneeled beside the tracks and started looking them over, which also provided him an opportunity to catch his breath. His long hair glistening with sweat concealed his face as he leaned over and examined the boot prints. The tracks converged before stopping at the icy water's edge. "Why would they move to single file across a brook? It seems shallow enough to cross at any point."

He looked up and the elf had already started to cross the brook and didn't hear his assessment, causing him to curse under his breath. Thin sheets of ice formed along the very shallow banks, but the water in the middle of the brook flowed steadily. The messenger watched as the wizard hopped from rock to rock, staying out of the water and somehow balancing perfectly on the slippery, uneven surfaces as he hopped onto the opposite bank.

There were a few algae covered rocks that stuck out above the water Keltar could use to cross as the elf did, but most likely he would end of slipping into the shin deep water and possibly soaking his entire body. He cautiously stepped into the brook as he looked for the shallowest route across. It was only five or six paces wide, but the cold water was already beginning to make his feet numb at the first step.

Einlan glanced toward the man in black leather armor as he stepped into the freezing water. "The tracks do not continue on this side. It appears that they were heading east since the tracks turned slightly before entering the water. We'll need to see where they emerged from the water. We should split up on opposite sides of the stream in case they doubled back further down instead of crossing."

Keltar shivered from the icy water that soaked his boots and the legs of his leather pants. The orcs were proving to be much smarter than he expected. They obviously took precautions to avoid being followed. This was going to be much more difficult that he had hoped. He agreed they should split up to make better time and check both sides, and he wasn't thrilled to enter the freezing water again. "I'll take this side," he said, not giving the elf time to reply he stepped back out of the water and began to follow along the stream's bank. He hoped the brisk walk would raise his body temperature a bit.

He felt like a lost city boy out here in this element. The messenger wasn't even sure how Einlan knew the direction was east since the hazy gray clouds covered the sky and obscured the sun. He chastised himself for secretly hoping the aloof elf would have slipped and fell in the water. He let out a huff and continued to walk close to the southern side of the stream.


	11. Chapter 10

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thank you for the comments and suggestions. I understand that longer chapters are needed, so this one has an extra thousand words to it. I suppose writing as a DM, some details are left out for the flow of the game, but you're correct for a fanfiction novel it should be longer. I will try to make the remaining chapters at least two thousand words or more.

Dagger of Souls

*** Chapter 10 ***

Sir Dural stood amid the center of the small hamlet and scanned the snow covered wooden structures around him. The grey sky made it difficult to tell what time of day it was but it must have been late afternoon. His black and gold cape bearing the herald of the Waterdeep guard fluttered slightly in the cold breeze as he turned toward a tall barn. The polished metal pot helmet he wore reflected the dreary grey skies above him and the purple colored flumes hung down like a tassel behind him. He pointed a gloved finger toward the barn, as he turned to face a wiry, thin soldier nearby. "Wylan, the barn roof up there is the best place for a central watch station. It should give us the best view of the entire town. Find a ladder to use from the townspeople and then secure a rope up there to keep from slipping and falling off. We'll set two roving watches to walk the perimeter of the town and report back to the central lookout. Make sure the watches wear only simple cloaks like the farmers use, as we discussed earlier, and keep their weapons hidden. If the orcs send scouts, they will think there are just regular villagers taking a walk and not soldiers guarding the area. You also need get the three horns out of the wagon for the watch to use for raising the alarm."

The young, lanky soldier saluted to the well armored Sergeant, "Yes, sir. We'll set watches straight away. Me, Horlin, and Rork will take the first watches and set everything up." The soldier looked somewhat underwhelming next to the large paladin wearing a wide steel breastplate, black leather skirt and steel greaves that protected his legs from his knees to his feet. The soldier wore only basic leather armor with mesh chain mail covering his torso underneath a white tabard with the emblem of the Waterdeep guard stitched on a woven cotton cloth. A simple round metal cap sat atop his small head. The other guards all wore the same uniforms, though they varied in size.

Dural returned the salute promptly. "Very good, Wylan. I am going to the healer's house if you need me." The guardsman nodded and left to carry out his orders as the knight headed down the snow covered street. He met the town healer when they arrived in town and was captivated by her warm manner and simple beauty. He removed his helmet and knocked on the wooden door to the cottage where he was told she lived. A young teenager girl opened the door and looked him over. She smiled as she brushed a stray loch of her long, strawberry blonde hair from her face. "You must be Sir Dural, please come in. I am Chrysanna, eldest daughter of Hadenna. My mother is expecting you."

"Well met, Chysanna. That is a beautiful name and very fitting, it looks like you are soon to be a very pretty young lady," he said with a sincere smile.

The girl blushed and gave him a shy grin before retreating down the hall to attend to her chores.

He set his cloak on one of the wooden pegs in the short entrance hallway leading to the living room. The pastel colors of the living room's décor were a stark contrast to the surrounding landscape where everything was white or muddy brown under a grey sky. Even the few evergreens in the surrounding wilderness seemed to be more black than green with the filtered sunlight that fought through the thick clouds. The soft colors along with the warm fire made the place very inviting and comfortable. The cozy feeling the holy warrior experienced changed abruptly after seeing the dozen or so wounded townspeople lying in makeshift bedding of hay strewn about the wooden floor. The people here seemed to be hard working and decent people. He felt saddened that they were the victims of the godless orc invaders. It served to affirm his resolve in protecting them from further harm, and strengthening the conviction of his assignment.

"Sir Dural, it is nice to see you again. Please come and have a seat." Hadenna's captivating smile outshined all of her colorful decorations, and probably added as much comfort to the ailing villagers as her medicinal herbs and remedies.

The warrior gave a slight bow and smiled in return. "It is my pleasure, ma'am. Your place looks very pleasant. Thank you for the warm welcome into your town and your home." He noticed the priestess Cera was there helping her tend to the injured and he nodded a wordless greeting when she looked over to him.

"We cannot thank you and your group enough for making the journey to our small village to help us against the brutal orcs that have been harassing our people and stealing our livelihood." The woman's smiled faded as she thought about those missing people whom she must have known very well in such a tiny village. "The poor child Tarla was just a few months older the Chrysanna…" her voice trailed off as she seemed to recall a recent incursion and kidnapping. A shiver shook through her and she sighed painfully. She struggled to regain her composure, "I apologize for rambling, we had hoped our prayers would be answered and the Lord's of Waterdeep would send aid."

The paladin nodded to indicate his understanding, "There is no need to apologize Mrs. Hadenna. You have continued to be a beacon to those around you through these difficult times, and I know it is not easy as they invoke deep emotions for your missing and injured compatriots. The Lords of Waterdeep rushed to send us here and help defend your town. I only wished that they could spare more soldiers, but they needed to get a small contingent here quickly to help with the immediate threat. Extra soldiers are in short supply after the Amnish war, even the patrols in Waterdeep are stretched thin. But, we should have enough soldiers here to stop any raiding party and we will find out why they have ventured so close to your town. The fact that they have been stealing food and supplies leads us to believe they have an encampment nearby and plan to use it for a while. As far as I have heard they are able hunters so it seems strange that they are stealing food, and even more so that they are taking prisoners. If we deem it necessary we will request further troops to deal with them. Some of our men have already begun to follow their tracks to locate their base of operations and, Tyr willing, we will find out where the people of your village were taken."

"We appreciate the quick response the Lords have give our pleas for help. I am glad that we're now in capable hands." Hadenna glanced back to the villagers in her care. "I have to get back to tending wounds and applying herbs, but our young villager Klenn has been anxious to meet you." She led the paladin over to the broad shouldered youth lying on the straw bedding near the kitchen area of the common room. "Sir Dural of the Waterdeep guard, this is Klenn, son of Turlin, a local trapper and hunter."

Klenn struggled to force himself to sit up, but Hadenna and the paladin both motioned for him to stop. The armored man patted his shoulder, "It's alright son. You just relax there. No need to get up on my behalf."

The young man winced in pain and returned to lying flat on his back. He stared at Sir Dural's intricate design of gold filigree adorning his polished breastplate as he responded, "Yes, sir. I've never known a knight before. It's an honor to meet you."

"And I'm pleased to make your acquaintance as well. I've never met a farm boy as brave as you. Taking on two armed orcs alone to rescue a neighbor takes some guts. Tell me about your skirmish and everything you can remember about the orc's tactics and reactions. Don't leave out a thing, there's valuable information in the details of every combat. To know your enemy is to hold power over them."

Klenn nodded and began to recite every detail from the time he was throwing his axe until he hit the wall and blacked out. The paladin kneeled beside him and listened intently to every word, asking for further details in some parts. After the boy finished the warrior remarked softly, "You did very well. They have many years of experience in the art of war and are not easy opponents, but you possess the heart of a warrior. Maybe when you are better I can give you some training on how to better defend yourself and help you to recognize some common battle tactics and ways to counter them."

The young man gave a boyish smile, but it faltered after a few moments. "I would really like that sir, but Miss Hadenna tells me I'll tear my stitching if I move around too much. It may be weeks, and you will most likely be gone by then."

The paladin stood tall and pointed to his own breastplate with the symbol of weight scales intricately etched in gold filigree. "Do you know what this symbol represents?"

Klenn looked confused and shook his head from side to side.

Sir Dural pulled the cover down gently and unwound the bandage on the boy's mid-section as he spoke with reverent purpose, "It is the Scales of Justice, the holy symbol of Tyr, the Even-Handed One. As a bearer of Tyr's teachings, I declare that wounds you received are a heinous injustice from the unlawful invasion of your town." The knight's voice began to amplify by some internal force as he continued, "By the power that the Lord of Justice himself has granted to me, his faithful servant, I call upon his fair grace and divine spirit now to bind the wounds of this ally of justice!" The knight's hands and the golden symbol etched on his armor began to take on a bright white glow that illuminated the room. The other injured townsfolk turned as best they could to see what was happening to Klenn in quiet fascination of the divine display. Sir Dural opened his eyes and placed one glowing hand above the farm boy's stomach. Rays of light spilled up from the laceration as if the boy had swallowed a bright, white hot lantern. The holy warrior pulled the stitching free with his off hand as the torn skin began to seal itself, slowly dousing the beaming light until it winked out completely as the wound closed. Klenn watched in enraptured amazement, as the deep gash was completely closed in a few heartbeats, with no evidence of a wound remaining. He rubbed his finger all around the wound just to be sure it wasn't just some illusion, but he could tell there was no more pain, a sense of warmth and peace had taken its place.

The young man tried to say something but his mouth just hung agape. The divine power passed through his body was unlike anything he had ever experienced. It brought him a feeling of calm and security. He sat up with tears running down his face, as the reality of what was done sank in. He twisted his torso to test his range of motion and was excited that he could move freely without any discomfort. He sat straight up on the bedding and bowed to the paladin. "Thank you Sir Dural. With all my heart I owe you my allegiance."

Sir Dural gave him a reassuring nod as he responded, "There is no need. The mighty Tyr has seen that your sacrifice was just." He gripped the hilt of his broadsword at his side and lifted it slightly from the leather scabbard, revealing a well crafted and polished steel blade. He looked around the room, and then his gaze flashed with iron resolve as he spoke aloud. "With Tyr's might I shall teach the orcs the other side of justice, and they shall pay for these crimes with their darkened blood. Tyr's gifts go way beyond healing the body, and give me the power for righteous retribution which I intend to use against these wicked aggressors." He shoved the sword back down into the scabbard causing a distinctive metallic ring to echo around the room as he continued in a commanding voice, "This I swear to you and your fellow townspeople."

Two wounded men in nearby makeshift beds held up a fist to show their admiration of his pledge to their people. Hadenna flashed him a genuine smile as she nodded her appreciation, his sincere inspiring words seemed to give them all hope again, against the dreary situation that had gripped them like a giant constrictor serpent.

Sir Dural bid them all farewell, and left the healer's cottage. Cera grabbed her winter cloak and followed him outside to catch up with him. She grabbed his shoulder and turned him around to face her. She put her hands on her hips as she spoke, "Why did you use your divine healing now, we may need that for our injured soldiers in battle. His wounds were not life threatening."

"I realize that Cera. But this young man has potential to be an ally in combat. Besides that his father is a trapper and hunter so he will know the surrounding terrain very well, we could use his help. We may not have enough soldiers to deal with the threat as it is."

"You didn't happen to mention that part of it to them."

The knight shook his head as he replied. "These people don't need all the details, they need hope and faith. We must not sow any seeds of doubt."

Cera nodded in agreement and relaxed her posture. "I suppose you are right. I'll get back to helping the healer with her herb remedies. Good night and blessings to you."

"And to you, lady Cera. I must go and see if our scouts have returned. They should have been back by now."


	12. Chapter 11

Dagger of Souls

*** Chapter 11 ***

The stout young soldier looked around nervously as he pulled the wool cloak tighter around his lightly armored body to keep the cold air from getting to him. Clumps of snow began to fall just after the sun began to set, making an already cold day worse. He scanned the trees bordering the southwest side of the village as he walked through ankle deep snow watching for any signs of movement. He checked the sword at his belt beneath the cloak to be sure he could pull it out quickly. The stories of the orc savagery from the villagers had him on edge. They were strong and ruthless warriors with experience out in the wilds. This was their element. He felt ill equipped being born in a large city and knowing only the streets of Waterdeep. He'd only finished his military training a few weeks ago and now he might likely see mortal combat. He had thought it would be thrilling like the pretend sword fights with sticks in his youth, but the reality of facing possible death made his heart thump in his chest and his hands shake.

He knew his fellow soldiers and these townsfolk were depending on him, and Sergeant Dural needed him to do his duty. He felt better knowing that the battle tested warrior of Tyr would be around nearby to aid him. That gave him confidence and he used those thoughts to calm his nerves. The soldier stopped abruptly as he heard strange sounds coming from the woods. He crouched down and listened intently. They were definitely footsteps in the snow. He gripped the hollowed horn around his neck and pulled it out from beneath his cloak as he moved closer to a tree for cover. He felt the strange, gripping sensation of fear with shortness of breath and began to worry that he might not be able to blow the horn loud enough to alert the others. He had to sound the alarm or he would have no help against the enemy. He spoke a silent prayer to Helm, God of Guardians, for strength and courage.

He peeked around a nearby tree to see if he could spot the source of the sound. He couldn't see much of anything in the dim light, the sun had just fallen and the scant trace of light left in the sky gave very little help against the darkness, especially with the heavy snow fall. "Who goes there?" He cried out in a failed attempt at an authoritative voice. He placed the horn to his lips, if no answer came he would sound the alarm and hope the Sergeant and other soldiers would get there quickly. His lips felt dry and his breath became rapid as he waited for what seemed like hours.

"It is Keltar and Einlan. We are returning from our search," came the voice from somewhere nearby after a few harrowing moments.

The young soldier let out a long breath of relief that streamed a plume of mist nearly three feet in length. He tried to compose himself before he continued. "Sergeant Dural would like to speak with you. He is waiting in our assigned cottage." The knight and soldiers were given a house that belonged to a middle aged man and his wife that were killed in the first orc attack and their home left abandoned, their kids taken in by their aunt a few houses down. The town was too small for an inn or tavern, so the soldiers were housed there. Others in the party were given accommodations in different houses with other families. Many of the townspeople were more than happy to have the warriors there to help protect their homes and volunteers to give them room and board were plentiful.

The two men headed past the soldier as he resumed his roving watch. Darkness fell quickly and made it impossible to see anything in the wilderness. A faint light from the glow of hearths and lanterns that escaped small cracks around the doors and windows of the cottages gave them scant visibility, but even that didn't go more than a few paces with the falling snow obscuring it.

Keltar quickly opened the door of the soldiers' cottage and he and the elf wizard hurried in out of the cold, snowy weather. A wavy, wisp of snow flakes swirled in after them, making the fire crackle and pop as if it were complaining about the frigid intrusion.

The messenger threw his boots off and huddled close to the fireplace trying to warm his frozen feet in the radiant heat. The elf shook the snow nonchalantly from his cloak, pushed his hood back and sat down beside the sergeant. Dural glanced curiously at the man in black leather and then back to Einlan. The sergeant was dressed in plain clothes and out of his usual armored breast plate and greaves. "So how far did you get to follow the tracks?"

The elf pushed back his long blonde hair behind his pointed ears and sighed as he made his report, "They were more skilled at avoiding tracking attempts than we thought. They used a shallow stream to hide their trail, which was very effective. We searched along the banks to see where they would emerge. But we followed miles of the stream and inlets in the direction we thought they went. There was just not enough daylight left to continue. We found no sign of them and with the fresh snowfall, it will be impossible to pick up their trail again. We are not even sure we were headed in the right direction. They could have changed course in the brook and gone the opposite way from where their tracks were headed out of town just to confuse anyone following them."

Keltar threw a small piece of wood into the fire out of frustration, causing embers to dance around the hearth. "I nearly got frost bite out there, and it was all for naught."

Sir Dural shook his head as he raised a finger. "No, we learned some important information from this development."

Keltar pursed his lips as he twisted back to look at the holy warrior. "How's that?"

Einlan grinned as he understood what the paladin was deducing from the information. "We now know that they are worried about someone following them. They didn't fear these farmers so they wouldn't have taken such a tactic at masking their tracks unless they believed a larger force would be coming."

Dural gave the elf an approving nod. "Those were my thoughts exactly Einlan. This means that they are probably expecting some soldiers to arrive and will not be taken by surprise on their next attack. Though they won't know how quickly we would get here. They will probably send scouts, so we need to continue to keep the soldiers out of sight and disguised as villagers."

The messenger turned from the fire and crossed his legs. "If they planned on our arrival, as you say, they may have already had lookouts posted to see if anyone passed the road to Stalford. If this is true then they may already know we are here and how many soldiers we have. Then again they could just be taking extreme precautions, though neither of those fit the profile I have heard about orcs."

The paladin twisted his long mustache as he contemplated the theory. "No, that does not seem to fit with any reports that I have seen with orc incursions. Perhaps this tribe of orcs are much more cunning than some of their brethren, or they are getting tactical help from someone else."

Keltar shook his head, "All we can do is speculate at the moment, but we should be ready for anything."

Dural nodded, "It is important that speak with the town elders and come up with a defensive strategy and help them prepare for a larger scale attack. We need to determine a safe house for villagers to move to where they are better protected during another incursion."

The elf sat with his arms folded in his robes and added, "I could help show them how to construct basic bows and arrows. We can train them on how to use them and have the able bodied men help shoot from roofs or windows in case of another raid. It would be good for them to have this training even if we defeat the marauding orcs for their future defense."

Keltar grabbed his boots from where he threw them down and moved them closer to the fire to allow them to dry. "Those are very sound ideas. We should get started on them right away. I believe the man we met when we arrived, Holtin, was considered the town leader from the way he spoke and others looked to him. I will arrange a meeting with him and his elders as soon as possible."

The paladin shifted in his chair. He looked somewhat less ominous wearing a simple tunic like other farmers instead of his armor, but he was more broad-shouldered than most of the villagers and still quite an imposing figure. "I would prefer if we met with the leaders tomorrow morning."

He glanced at Einlan as he continued, "In the spirit of the elf's suggestion to train the villagers, I have agreed to help a young man by the name of Klenn learn to fight. I'm going to meet his parents and then speak with him again. He has great potential. I heard the details of his battle and he fought well without any proper training. He killed one orc from nearly fifteen paces with a well thrown axe to the side of the head, and held his ground against another seasoned orc in melee combat. He's as strong as an ox, and just needs some refinement and he'll make a decent warrior. At least I can train him enough to help defend his village. If the green skins know we are here, we could easily be outnumbered in their next raid. Do any of you have some suggestions as to a solid defense? Wylan, what do the town boundaries look like in the rest of the village? Are they wide open as the main road entrance?"

The lanky soldier sat up straight, not realizing his opinion would be needed by these experienced men. "Well, a few of the farms have some fencing around their crops, but they're only a few feet high and not very sturdy. They were only meant to ward off animals."

The knight pondered the information for a few moments. "They will most likely use the path of least resistance. It will give us a better idea of where we need to concentrate our defenses at least."

The elf looked at the humans, "Perhaps we could have the villagers help extend some of those fences to limit the places where they can attack from. It will slow them down enough that we will have time to reduce their numbers with a ranged assault. Once they funnel through the gaps it will keep them from flanking our soldiers when we meet them in close combat."

Dural smiled broadly, "Another excellent suggestion elf friend. It will also give the villagers a sense of pride to be able to help in the defense of their town, and not feel like helpless victims. I'm sure they will be eager to help in any way they can."

Keltar put down the cloth towel he was using to wipe dirt from his thawing feet and rubbed his chin. "Perhaps I can also help rig some traps to hinder them. I may need some help from a few villagers with its construction."

"Klenn's father is a trapper, he may have some of the traps you need already," added the knight.

The rogue shook his head from side to side in response. "I seriously doubt any of his simple animal traps will fool these orcs. They are not as dumb as their reputation suggests."

The holy warrior shrugged his broad shoulders. "That maybe so, but they even simple animal traps would cause them to pause at the very least. You could use those in addition to whatever you have in mind, and no construction time is needed."

"I will agree to that. I have a spiked trap in mind that was used in a warehouse cellar of a prominent thieves' guild in the city. It will be a bit more complex to build so we couldn't use them for all of the entry points to the village. So the animal traps can be used in the other places."

Dural leaned forward in his chair. "How in Tyr's good eye did you learn about such a trap?"

Keltar flashed a sly smile, "My duties as messenger to the Masked Lords involved more than just investigations and fighting orcs."

The knight stood up and stretched. He raised both eyebrows as he began to realize why the roguish man was chosen to be in the position of messenger to highest authorities of the grand city of Waterdeep. "Ah, I understand. I will be speaking with Klenn's father tomorrow and I will ask him to see you about where to place some of his traps to help in the town's defense. We need to bring all of these suggestions to the town's leaders and keep them involved. Let us all go and get a good night's sleep. We shall have a fair amount of work ahead of us in the next several days at the very least."


	13. Chapter 12

Dagger of Souls

*** Chapter 12 ***

The group of captured villagers huddled together in the icy darkness while heavy snowflakes dropped steadily on top of them. The wood logs they laid on were hard and uncomfortable. Even with the cloth sacks they used as makeshift bedding they could feel the rough bark. But, it kept them off the frigid, snow covered ground and that was a welcome relief. The orcs slept near the campfire, underneath a tarp made from tanned hides, with warm fur blankets. The prisoners weren't allowed to be near the fire and had only each other for warmth. Arlin looked up at the orc guards who were sitting by the fire and paying little attention to the human captives. He took the opportunity to speak with the other villagers. He whispered quietly but urgently, "We have to try to get back and warn the others to tell them of this wretched prison camp and find help. We cannot continue like this for much longer."

The prisoner next to him was short and thin. His haggard sandy blonde hair dropped from the back and sides of his bald, egg-shaped head. He frowned as he grabbed the thick rope that chaffed his neck, "How can we get back? We are tied up and guarded by savages, not to mention the fact that we have no idea how to get back home."

Arlin shook his head and patted his pants. "We can get free, Hadus. I was able to gather a sharp rock to use to cut the rope and I have kept it hidden."

The villager rubbed his hand across his bald top as he pondered. "What difference does that make? You'd be dead before you could get fifty paces away from here. Even if you somehow got past the guards you would freeze to death wandering aimlessly in the woods. It is hopeless."

"Not if we have a distraction. We can stage a fight and one of us can escape during the confusion. Those orcs seem to love fighting, I'm sure it will take their attention long enough. We have to try. That girl they brought here a couple days ago was Korli, Rulard's daughter. She is going to be taken by the black robed man soon like the others." His anger boiled and caused him to speak louder, "How many more do we have to watch go off to their fate? How long are we going to remain slaves for these pigs?"

"Shhh. Alright, but keep your voice down. How are we to find our way back? They kept our heads covered when they brought us here. We have no idea how far away Stalford is, much less in which direction."

Arlin pointed to a man in the prison group laying down a few paces away from them. "I don't know either but I bet Gansen can figure out where we are. He does a lot of fishing and hunting in the area surrounding our village. Gansen, do you think you can find your way back."

The gruff man responded in a hoarse voice, "I'm trying to get some sleep before they work us to the bones tomorrow."

Arlin was getting impatient and glowered at the other villager, though he probably couldn't see his face in the dim light of the distant campfire. "You're worried about work tomorrow? You want to rest to better help them build their fort. Are you insane or do you like these beasts?"

The hunter narrowed his dark bushy eyebrows though it was difficult to notice in the darkness. His face was covered by a thick dark beard and mustache with a fair amount of grey at the ends, which rippled as he spoke. "No, I hate these bastards as much as anyone, but I'd be crazy to try and escape. They'll probably torture and kill whoever attempts it, and beat everyone else to a pulp. It's no use."

Arlin was nearly livid at the man's complacency with their situation. He realized Gansen had no children and wasn't on the best terms with his wife. He took a calming breath and tried a different approach, the last thing they needed was to create division among the prisoners. "I understand your hesitation. But, we're already being tortured every day working our rear ends off to help them build this fort. What do you think is going to happen to us when we're done? You believe they'll keep us around for giggles? They are going to chop us to pieces and dump our bodies in the nearest stream or serve us for dinner! This may be our only chance at freedom, and we need your help."

Gansen paused for a few moments, thinking over the farmer's words carefully. He lowered his head as he responded. "I don't know what they are gonna do, but I don't want to be the one to die."

"You won't die, I have a plan."

The hunter looked up and cocked his head. "It had better be a durn good one."

Arlin scooted himself closer to Gansen so he could hear him clearly without having to raise his voice and draw attention. He motioned for the others to get closer so they could hear as well. "Next time they send out a raiding party, they'll be lacking enough guards to effectively watch us all. We will create a diversion by staging a fight over food or something. I got this sharp rock here that we can use to cut your rope most of the way. When we start the fight, you can just yank on the rope and it will break free. Hide behind the finished section of wall, there is some dense underbrush a dozen paces behind it. Follow the brush and it will keep you out of sight. Circle around to where the raiding party left camp and find their trail. You can follow it until you notice an area you recognize. Then you can work your way back to the village, or just follow them all the way."

Hadus nodded in agreement. "That's a good plan Arlin. What about it Gansen? Do you want to be free and back in the village eating real food and sleeping in a comfortable bed or out here working your tail off for scraps of slop and sleeping in the freezing snow until they decide they have no more reason to keep you alive?"

Before he could answer one of the orc guards looked over at the group and must have heard something. He walked toward them and watched them carefully. They all closed their eyes and pretended to be asleep before he got close enough to see them clearly. Arlin worried that he heard them talking and would question them at the end of the whip until they got a confession. As the guard got close the farmer pretended to be mumbling in his sleep between snores. The orc looked over at him and looked at the others. They all seemed to be in a deep slumber. He stood there for a few moments until he was satisfied that nothing was amiss and then returned to the warmth of the fire.

They waited a long time until the guard stopped peeking over at them regularly before they tried to communicate again. Arlin lowered his whisper so that it was barely audible. "Well Gansen? Do you want to keep living in this fear to even speak or will you do something about it?"

"Fine. I'll do it," the villager responded, with noticeable trepidation. "Just keep your durn voice down."

"Great. When they start to gather the raid together, I'll start to cut the rope while they are distracted. About a half hour after they leave, we'll start a fight between me and Hadus. I need the rest of you to start yelling and screaming and pulling at your collars. That'll get their attention and give him a chance to get away unnoticed."

There were several whispers of agreement among the half dozen prisoners as they passed along Arlin's words to those out of earshot. Their escape plan was in place and now they could rest with a new feeling of hope.

Several days passed and there weren't any raiding parties at all. The orcs continued to work the slaves hard. Arlin began to get very worried. He wondered if the orcs had already gathered enough prisoners and supplies to satisfy them. But that also meant they may never escape, not with the plan as it was and he couldn't think of another one. He had mixed emotions of relief and disappointment for the lack of raids. On one hand, it would spare his wife and all the other villagers from enduring the pain they suffered as captives. But on the other hand it meant that they may never be freed, at least not alive. Arlin and the other prisoners started their regular day's work sawing logs from the trees the orcs cut down for the walls of the orc fort. At least the pig faced brutes didn't have them cut down the trees. He guessed they didn't want to give the prisoners large axes to wield. He wished they would give him one, and it wouldn't be a tree he'd cut down. He noticed that the orc chieftain stepped out of his tent and began to call out in their crude language to the others.

Arlin scratched at his graying beard as he watched the orcs gather and form up around their leader. They began to grunt while chanting and waving their weapons in the air. He couldn't understand their chants, but he knew all too well what their display meant. They were going on the hunt, the culling of his villagers and the theft of their goods.

He pulled the small rock out from its hiding place in his torn pants and touched Gansen lightly on the shoulder. "It's time." The hunter nodded as Arlin began to saw at the rope that kept him bound with three other prisoners, while the orcs were busy with their pre-battle rituals. He hated them, celebrating in excitement over attacking poor farmers, women and children. He would kill them all if he had the chance. Arlin only left a few threads of the rope connected so the guards wouldn't notice he wasn't secure as they moved. He spoke with the group of prisoners quietly. "We'll wait until the orcs have gone far enough not to hear an alarm if there is one. Gansen you'll have to move quickly when they figure out you've gone they may well come for you."

The villager gave him a weary eye, but reluctantly nodded in agreement. As they began to work their assignments Arlin noticed that something was different this time with the raiding party. This was by far the largest group of warriors being sent out since they were captured. He counted fifteen warriors, including the big, nasty orc that was thought to be the second in command, based on his frequent visits with the orc chieftain. "Sho'Varg" the other orcs said when they called to him. Arlin watched as the raiding party marched out of the encampment. He began to worry that they might not be going to their village with the increased number of warriors. Perhaps they were going to another town this time. No, that did make any sense either. The only other town anywhere nearby was Red Larch and they had over a thousand soldiers and guardsmen. But he still couldn't figure out why the big change this time. He and the other three men bound to him went about their work, lifting another log into place along the wall as he contemplated the information. He turned to the other three when the guards weren't paying close attention. "The soldiers from Waterdeep must have arrived. That's why they are sending so many warriors."

Hadus who was tied together with Arlin's group shrugged his shoulders, "The orcs didn't look worried about it. If you're right they probably ain't got enough men to stop 'em or they are maybe they're just sending more green skins to capture and kill the rest of the village."

Arlin flashed the balding man a scowl and started to argue, but he couldn't think of anything rational to counter his statement. It was very possible, and troubling. He only hoped the orcs were just stupid and making a mistake. But if Hadus was right, the village was in terrible danger. They could be in serious trouble either way. "We've got to start our plan earlier. Gansen will have to find a way to take a shortcut and get ahead of the orcs and warn the village."

The orc guard spotted them talking and stalked toward them with a sneer, making his black lips curl around his yellow stained tusks. He pulled out his beaded whip and struck Arlin hard across his face and neck. The farmer reeled backward tripping on the ropes and falling to the dirty snow. His cheek and neck started to bleed steadily. He began to panic. This could ruin everything. He could be taken and beaten or the guards might stay near them to keep closer watch and escape would be virtually impossible. Arlin tried to think quickly, his life and the lives of his family and neighbors could be at stake. He climbed back up to his feet and grabbed a hold of Hadus and shook him hard. "This is your fault. You got me in trouble for talking!" Arlin pushed the balding villager backwards.

Hadus looked confused and wasn't quite sure if this was the plan or if the farmer was really upset at him. The elder man was very convincing if it was an act. He got back up and shoved Arlin past the orc guard. The green skin humanoid started yelling at both of them. The farmer yelled back as he moved around the orc and toward Hadus. "You troublemaker! Now Gansen has to go," he yelled furiously. The ropes binding the prisoner wrapped around the guard, yanking him off balance. The other villagers understood what was going on from his cryptic phases and they started yelling and pulling at their ropes, making a ruckus. Arlin couldn't be too direct in his message because he knew the orc chieftain understood human language fairly well, but he didn't think he would be able to figure out what they were talking about. The other guard left Gansen's group and came over to help with the trouble. He yelled again another message while pretending it was directed at his opponent, "The hunter had better beat them home or we'll fail!" He continued to wrestle with Hadus and they spun around getting the orc more tangled. The other guard stepped in and started whacking them with his whip and yelling heatedly at them in their harsh, guttural language. They couldn't understand him and didn't really care. They had to keep up the act to give the hunter time to get away. Five other orcs ran toward the scuffle with their axes out. The two villagers had no choice but to stop or they would be killed. They couldn't risk watching to see if the hunter broke free for fear of drawing attention to him. The orcs got them under control and forced them to the ground on their stomachs. The two guards started to beat them mercilessly with their horrid whips. Between the painful lashings Arlin prayed to the Great Mother, goddess of all nature, that Gansen escaped and that he and Hadus would survive the guards' wrath.


	14. Chapter 13

Dagger of Souls

*** Chapter 13 ***

Sir Dural took a step forward to close within striking distance as he brought his weapon in a downward slash toward the opponent in front of him. His adversary began to dodge the weapon, but the paladin shifted his hips mid swing and rotated his strike diagonally smashing his axe down hard on the opponent's shoulder blade. Klenn was knocked back a few steps, tripped over a sack of feed and sprawled to the cold, muddy floor.

The stout farm boy got back up and threw down his wooden training axe with a frustrated look on his face as he wiped the mud off his large pants.

The holy warrior shook his head, "I keep trying to tell you, but you're not listening. Don't dodge a blow until the attacker is fully committed to a strike. That's the same mistake you made with the orc, anticipating the attack too early. That may work against novice opponents or animals, but not against well trained combatants. They will recognize that you are dodging early and fake their attack to catch you off guard as I did. You have to wait until they are at least halfway through their swing arc before moving or blocking. If they try to pull back a strike beyond that point, the momentum will throw them off balance."

Klenn sighed and nodded his head as he rubbed his sore shoulder. He was beginning to wonder if the paladin healed him just so he could send him back to Hadenna's himself. "I'll try to remember that. Can I at least clear the stuff from the floor so I don't trip over them?"

The knight narrowed his eyebrows and gave the young man a stern look. "No. Do you think your attackers will wait for you to clean up before they engage you in combat? There are almost always obstacles in a battlefield. You have to be aware of them as you position yourself. Even in open plains there are clumps of weeds, holes, uneven ground, loose rocks, and other things that can trip you. You have to be wary of your surroundings at all times to be effective in close combat. You also need to keep your back straight when dodging and keep your legs at least shoulder width apart like the stance I taught you. That will help you maintain balance. Falling in melee will put you at a severe disadvantage. It could cause you to lose grip of your weapon or even injure yourself on your weapon. When you fall you could hit your head, injure your wrist or leg, any number of things. There are numerous bad scenarios and very few good ones that will result. The point is that maintaining balance and awareness of your surroundings are crucial in surviving close combat."

The teenage villager nodded his head as he picked up the wooden axe. The excitement of training to be a warrior had worn off as he realized how much work and difficulty went into it the skills needed to become proficient. He wondered if he was making a mistake to think he could be a real warrior. But he banished those thoughts as he remembered how frightened he was of the orcs and didn't want have that helpless feeling anymore. He refused to be a victim any longer, begging for rescue and sitting by and watching as loved ones are dragged off to a terrible fate without being able to do anything to stop them. He steadied his resolve, clenched his jaw and moved back into a defensive stance. "Thank you for the pointers, Sir Dural. I promise to do better this time."

The knight flashed the farm boy a smile as he checked his wooden training axe, making sure the leather covering was tied down securely so that it would soften the blow and keep from causing any real damage to his new apprentice. "Good. Doing better in battle means living a longer life. Now prepare yourself."

Klenn looked around the barn where they were sparring and took a mental note of the obstacles as Dural moved in for the attack. The muscular farm boy did a better job of dodging and blocking his mentor's strikes, but he still was a bit awkward in his positioning and the knight continuously corrected him. "Keep your balance. Shift your hips."

The boy made another awkward move and the paladin stepped in and rammed him with his shoulder sending him crashing to the wet ground again. Before he could recover, Dural was on him and swung his training axe swiftly and knocked the boy's weapon out of his hand and it landed in the stall of a large brown horse six paces away. The animal snorted and whinnied loudly complaining about the rude intrusion into his territory.

The knight stood over the panting young man with his arms folded across his chest. "Had you kept your balance I would not have been able to knock you over so easily. This is why I keep saying telling you to practice your stance. It doesn't matter if you are dodging or delivering a blow you must keep your balance. A good warrior will take advantage of it and end the combat as I just did. Only against an orc opponent it will be your head he knocks away not your weapon." He held out a gloved hand and lifted the young villager up. He noticed the dejected look on the young man's face. "Even though you lost that battle, you did much better this time. You are making good progress. Do not feel too badly in defeat, those soldiers of mine have trained for years and could not best me either. I have to go check on the others and their preparations. Keep practicing the strikes I showed you and pay very close attention to your stance as you do them. Move side to side and don't just practice attacking in a straight line. Combat moves in every direction, so train that way as well."

Klenn brushed the mud from his pants. He was a bit discouraged, but at the words of praise from the man who carried the divine power of Tyr gave him fuel to keep at the training. "I will keep practicing," he pronounced as he went to retrieve his wooden weapon.

"Wait a minute, Klenn. Don't practice with that wooden thing. When you are not facing a sparring partner, you should train with a real weapon."

"I left my axe inside the house. I'll go in get it."

"No need to bother with that one." The paladin moved over to a stack of bundle hay near the back door of the barn. He grabbed something large wrapped in sturdy brown blanket, which he unfolded.

The farm boy's eyes went wide with recognition and a bit of fear. "That… That's the orc's weapon."

Dural grinned at the boy's surprised expression. "You are correct. It is the weapon of the orc you killed a few days ago. One of the village elders had collected it after the raid. It is yours by right. I want you to use it and practice with it. It's a much better weapon than the axe you've been using for chopping firewood. You still need the smaller axes for throwing, but practice your melee with this heavier weapon." He walked over and offered him the large weapon.

Klenn looked at it with trepidation. It was the same weapon that nearly killed him.

"Go on and take it. It's not going to hurt you now."

The boy finally took a hold of it and tested the weight. He swung it through the air, causing it to make a low humming sound. "The weight carries it through almost on its own."

"Very good, Klenn. Yes, its weight is balanced for attacking. This weapon is designed to kill more than just trees. There aren't a lot of humans strong enough to wield it properly, but I believe you can. Practice with it and remember your balance. I will return later to see how you are faring."

The farm boy looked it over. "But Sir Dural, this weapon reminds me of the orc attacks on my village. I'm not sure if I should be using it."

The knight stopped at the barn entrance and glanced back at him. "Actually, it is a good reason to use the weapon. Let it bring the thoughts of the attacks, the anger will bring you strength. Anger can be a great ally as long as you don't allow it to consume you. Harness it and use it to deliver a crushing blow to your opponent when you see an opening."

Klenn grabbed the weapon and got into his stance as he was taught. He began to imagine orcs moving in on him with similar weapons and he began to swing and dodge with the might of his anger at his illusionary opponents.

The holy warrior watched his new student for several moments. He was learning very quickly and was impressed at his resolve. He was hard on the young man, but it was good for training and better for testing to see if he has the toughness needed to be a true warrior. He walked out of the barn satisfied and headed down the main street of town.

The village had been buzzing with activity the last couple of days as everyone helped in preparations for defending their homes and land. Einlan gathered several farmers and had them collect wood to use for making bows. The elf taught the local carpenter Mandrin and his family how to cut wood to make bows and arrow shafts. He showed the husky blacksmith Arglos how to forge arrowheads from iron. They melted down extra horseshoes and farming implements for the material needed. Once they were taught how to make the weapons, the elf began to instruct the villagers on how to properly use the bow. They practiced in a large barn and out of sight so that any scouts would be unaware of their preparations.

The off duty soldiers taught the townsmen how to fight with farming tools, such as pitchforks, hammers, and axes. The sergeant figured the soldiers having been through training recently would remember combat basics well enough. It would be good for them to use that knowledge and give them confidence at teaching others, while allowing them to review their own training. He had told the town leader and the elders that they would be taught to fight, but asked them to keep out of the way if an attack comes. The townsmen could use bows from the safety of windows or roof tops, but to avoid coming into close combat range of the orcs. Keltar devised several traps and set them up around the perimeter of the village, but had to make them safe so that the farmers or their children wouldn't set them off by accident.

The sergeant walked to Hadenna's house to check on the priestess of the Moonmaiden and the town healer. Hadenna answered the door wearing a cooking apron and gave him a curt smile as she spoke. "Welcome back, Sir Dural. Is everything going well?"

"Oh, yes. The villagers have done a great job at making weapons and learning to defend themselves. I've directed them to stay out of harm's way, and use the bows at a distance from a safe position. If all goes well they shouldn't need to use our close combat training, Tyr willing. I just wanted to stop by and see how you and Cera were doing."

"Of course, it is good to see you. Come in, please." The healer led the knight into her living room, where he noticed Cera sitting with Hadenna's two girls and telling them a story. They watched the priestess with rapt attention as she spoke about the mythical fey creatures of the Moonwood forest, not even noticing the knight's entrance into their home. All of the wounded were gone from the living room and it looked like a serene, relaxing place once again. The warm pastel colors helped to push away the dark mood of the cold weather and looming threat that gripped the town. The sweet smell of roasted meat being cooked in the other room made him realize he hadn't eaten since a few hard biscuits for breakfast in the morning.

Hadenna spoke in a low voice to avoid interrupting the priestess' story. "We are doing well. The girls have taken to Cera like family. She has healed the worst of the wounds from all of the injured and they have been sent home with a few herb remedies to continue in their recovery. All of them are doing very well. Cera has been a great blessing and she is a caring and generous person."

Dural nodded and spoke softly. "I regret that I've had little time to spend with her since I was asked to lead the soldiers in this mission. I can tell that she is a good person, and we are blessed to have her with us. From what Keltar tells me she is pretty skilled in battle as well. She has quite a rare combination of many pleasant attributes as do you."

"Well, well. Are all knights as skilled in flattery?" She asked him with a sly smile.

Dural stood up straight as he replied, "No, but we are trained to make good observations."

The woman broadened her smile, the rigid paladin seemed to think she was testing his honor instead of realizing she was just teasing him. "Observant but not quite as perceptive when it comes to women. Would you like to have some tea? Lunch is almost ready and I would be honored to have you join us."

The knight sat down in a chair and scratched his chin while squinting his eyes as he tried to figure out what she meant by that comment. "Tea would be great. I really should be checking on the progress of the others though."

The healer put her hands on her hips and gave him a scornful look. "Oh, nonsense. You can't go about your business on an empty stomach. A full belly will do you some good. Even the best warriors cannot survive without food. There are two whole roasted chickens on the spit in the kitchen hearth and some spiced, scalloped potatoes in a pot. It should be ready in just a few minutes.

"If it wouldn't put you out too much, then I guess I can spare a minute for a quick bite to eat." The paladin was hungry and the aroma of the food cooking was enough to deter him from arguing further.

Hadenna gave him a satisfied smile and went back into the kitchen to check the food. The sergeant turned his attention to watching the silver moon shaped hairpiece in Cera's long auburn hair sparkle in the warm glow of the fire as she continued her story.

Suddenly the front door burst open and one of the soldiers ran into the room panting heavily. "Forgive my intrusion sir. We've got trouble!"


	15. Chapter 14

Dagger of Souls

*** Chapter 14 ***

The knight of Tyr jumped to his feet at the urgency in the voice of the soldier that just burst into the healer's cottage. "What's going on Bandon? Report!"

The young, lanky soldier took a second to catch his breath from the long sprint to reach his superior officer. "The orcs are almost here. A man that was taken from this village, Gansen, escaped the orc prison camp. He said he followed a raiding party and then when he recognized his location he took a shorter route to get ahead of them and warn the town. They have a large force of about fifteen warriors including one of their leaders, who he claims is one big, nasty son of a pig's bottom."

Dural might have found the description amusing if it weren't for the dire situation they were in. The sergeant did not like the news, but kept a stony expression of calm reassurance with the soldier, not allowing the worry he was feeling to show. "Get everyone to the defensive positions as we discussed, and find Keltar and apprise him of the situation."

"Sir, Tagrus already went to find him and give him the news."

Dural nodded, "Very well. Tell Wylan to get the villagers to the safe area. Follow the plan and we will prevail with righteous justice on our side. You are dismissed."

The soldier ran his fingers through his short cropped dirty blonde hair as he listened to the instructions, then gave a salute, spun on his booted heel and left the healer's house. The knight stood and watched the young man who has yet to see even twenty winters as he walked outside. They were outnumbered more than two to one and the six soldiers were hardly life tested much less battle-tested, which gave him some substantial concerns.

Cera moved up next to the paladin and pulled her deep blue robes closer around her as she pushed a strand of brown hair from her face. She seemed to sense his trepidation. "I suppose Hadenna's house will be filled up again," she commented in a low voice so that the girls couldn't hear her.

The sergeant tried to mask the worry in his eyes. He knew there would be a good chance of casualties and even deaths. He watched many of his comrades-in-arms fall in the Amnish War and it was never easy and no matter how much he wished it, he couldn't protect everyone. He found that the hardest thing to get over after a battle was questioning if there was more that could have been done. If someone began to question themselves and become indecisive in the next confrontation, they would end up the next one to meet their deity. He had seen that happen too many times, and was at least able to glean some wisdom from others that made that same tragic mistake. "Cera, we have a good plan and the villagers should be safe. We have wisdom and righteousness on our side."

The priestess knew he was trying to comfort her, but she knew the odds as well as he did. She wondered silently if one of these men she was just coming to know and accept as friends would end up dead. She pushed the thoughts away and focused on what needed to be done. "I will put on my armor and get into position."

Hadenna came out of the kitchen area holding a couple of platters of food. "I heard some other people talking in here. Do we have more guests?"

The sergeant sighed, "Hadenna, you need to get yourself and your girls to the town leader's cellar. There may not be much time."

There was fear in her sparkling light brown eyes as she looked over to her two teen-age children. She put the plates down on the table by the kitchen door, knowing full well heading to the safe area meant the orcs were coming. "Yes, of course. We will go there right away." She cut the leg from the roasted chicken and handed it to the paladin. "Take this and eat on your way."

"That is very kind of you." Dural was not going to argue and could use the energy. He took the piece of chicken and headed for the door after taking a large bite of the food.

Cera hurried into the bedroom and put on her fitted steel chainmail armor and steel greaves. She emerged from the room several minutes later and grabbed her boots from the hallway. The healer was waiting for her and cut the other leg off of the roasted chicken and walked over and offered it to the priestess. "Now don't you run off and starve either. Take this." She placed the plate of chicken on a small table by the door while Cera laced up her boots.

The priestess stood up and threw the winter cloak around her shoulder. "I really appreciate your generous hospitality."

Hadenna shook her head emphatically. "No, dear. It is our village that owes you a debt of gratitude for helping our injured people. I also want to thank you for your wonderful company and for entertaining my little ones." The woman gently clutched the priestess' elbow in her slender hand. "Please be careful."

Cera smiled as she clasped the healer's hands. "You keep yourself and your two beautiful daughters safe. Get them to the safe house quickly." The priestess grabbed the drumstick as she opened the door and headed out and down the snow covered dirt road.

* * *

Sir Dural met up with his most senior soldier Wylan as he walked across the small hamlet. He was talking with Bandon until he noticed the paladin. "Seargent, I will take you to the Gansen, the escaped prisoner. Bandon will go and make sure all the villagers get to the safe house."

"Let's get going then, we must make haste."

Wylan motioned with his hand pointing down the road and began to walk. "This way, sir."

The paladin followed his soldier down the muddy, snow covered road. He felt much more secure with his armor on and his steel shield strapped to his arm. It was time to find out the courage of his new companions and the inexperienced soldiers assigned to him. The veteran warrior looked up to the sky and was glad that there was no snowfall to obscure the orc raiding party's approach.

Wylan stopped once they found the place where he was told the escaped prisoner was resting. "This is it."

Dural and the young soldier entered the small wooden shack and scanned the room. A man sat down shivering beside a small hearth, another older villager with stringy gray hair sat next to him. He noticed the escaped prisoner's bare feet were blackened from frostbite and the sight of it made the chicken he ate churn in his stomach. The older man who sat with Gansen had thick blankets wrapped around him to try and raise his body temperature.

The paladin stepped over close to the two villagers. He put a comforting hand on the prisoner's shoulder. "Gansen, I am Sir Dural, a knight of Tyr sent here to help you and your people. I need to ask you some more questions to help us defend your town from these invaders."

The man nodded his understanding between shakes. He gritted his teeth and turned to face the paladin. "They're scum sucking, black hearted, green bastards. That's what they are!"

Dural was sympathetic to the man's anger, but needed him to focus on the information. They had no idea how quickly the orcs would arrive. "I need to know which direction they are coming."

"Well, they were heading northeast, walking up a stream last I saw. They seem to be taking a long way around. I'm not sure where they may end up. I guess they'll be coming from the north, unless the circle all the way around to the east."

The sergeant made a mental note of the information. From the previous attacks they seemed to take different approaches to the town each time. Unfortunately, there was no sure way to know where they would come from this time either. "Did this group of orcs know that you escaped?"

The man shook his head. "No. The others setup a diversion after the raiding group had already left so I could get away and try and make it back here to get help."

Dural smoothed his thick, dark mustache where it curved down around the sides of his mouth as he pondered the information. "Can you tell us some more details about their encampment? How many orcs are there in total?"

Gansen took a sip of hot tea that the other villager had brought him and then set it down with shaky hands. "There is another ten to fifteen back at the camp, as well as the orc leader. They are forcing the men they captured to work on building a wooden fortification. The women are taken by a man that comes dressed in black robes. He must be with some powerful people. Even the huge orc leader shows him respect.

The paladin stood stunned for a few seconds unable to even speak. He wasn't sure he heard it right so he asked again. "You are saying that a man, a human, is working with the orcs?"

The escaped prisoner nodded. "It's worse than that. We think the orcs are working for the man, or at least taking orders from him. He could just be a messenger for another orc clan, but I don't know why other orcs would use a human messenger."

Dural shook his head and leaned against the wall as he pinched the bridge of his nose with his other hand. He forced the worried look from his face and returned it to the stoic visage that he was trained to display in these situations. He looked briefly to the prisoner and then back at Wylan. "This situation is far worse than we expected. There is something much larger going on that just orc raids if they are building a fortification and taking orders from a human. Their actions are far too calculating for typical orc clans. I suspected there was someone else was behind it all, and this confirms it. We must send for more aid and inform Waterdeep of this new development. But, we cannot spare even one soldier to go back and we have no time to write out a proper report. The orcs must somehow be aware of our presence here. They are coming with enough warriors to put at end to our group or do some serious damage. We must get ready."

He turned back to the prisoner and grasped his arm. "Gansen, you need to head to the shelter and keep out of sight with the others. It is not safe here in this home. We need to consolidate the villagers to one place where we can defend them. I will ask our elf friend, Einlan, to provide you with some parchment and I need you to try and draw a map of where the orc camp is located. I also need someone from your village to ride to Waterdeep and deliver a message to Sir Bromler. He is the head of the paladins at the temple in Waterdeep and will know what to do. He should be able to get Lords of Waterdeep to send more troops."

Gansen spoke up. "I ain't too good with drawin' maps, but I'll give 'er a try. They are about maybe ten to fifteen miles west and slightly north of us."

Dural nodded. "I understand. Just do the best you can. Whatever you can draw up will be helpful. We will need it to go and rescue the other captured men, once we defend the town from this raiding party, and we have to have a map to be able to find their camp." The knight had hoped they would survive the attack with enough men to go after the orc camp, but it was highly unlikely. They would have to wait for reinforcements from Waterdeep.

The middle aged man with long stringy grey hair spoke up. "Sir, my name is Nesroth. I've got a horse and I can deliver the message to Sir Bromler."

The knight cocked his head to glance at the other villager. "This will be a hard, cold ride and the snow may be fairly deep in some places. Are you sure you're up to the task?"

Nesroth folded his thin arms across his chest. "I reckon I got more experience than most of ya at riding in this winter stuff. Besides, ya need the youngins here to help ya fight off them green skins. I'd be less help doin' that than riding me horse. Fern's a good horse and she'll get us there in one piece."

He turned to the other villager. "Thank you, Nesroth. I'm sure you and your horse will do fine. Go and get your horse saddled up and ready to go and meet me at Dervik's place. I should have a short message ready before you arrive that I will need you to deliver to Sir Bromler at the Halls of Justice in the Castle Ward of the city."

The knight put his pot shaped helm and then turned to the soldier. "Wylan I need you to help get this injured man to the shelter. Then go get Einlan and ask him to give you some parchment, ink and a quill and take it back to Gansen. After that, go check on the other soldiers and make sure they are prepared and understand their assignments."

The knight left the shack and headed down to the Dervik family cottage where he was quartered. The small place was quiet and empty. The family who volunteered to give him room and board had had already been evacuated to the shelter. He retrieved a parchment and ink quill from his pack and sat at the small table in the common room. The fire at the hearth was just about out but he didn't have time to stoke it. He unfurled the blank paper and began to scribble down a note to his mentor. He filled up the page and looked it over quickly. He added his signature at the bottom of the letter. There was no time to make a formal wax seal with his signet, but the urgency of the letter should explain the deviation from protocol.

The old villager arrived shortly after he finished rolling up the parchment. He grabbed some of his food rations and headed outside to meet him. "Nesroth, do you have everything you need to make this journey?"

"I got everything I need to make it to Waterdeep and back, I think."

The paladin attached the small sack of food rations to the horse's saddlebag. "Here's some extra food just to be sure." He then pulled out several gold coins from his belt pouch and placed it in the old man's saddle bag along with the letter to Bromler. "This should buy you a nice Inn room for the night and to put your horse up and have him watered and groomed properly before you return, as well as buy some more supplies for your trip back to Stalford."

Nesroth's eyes widened at the gold coins he was given. He looked down solemnly at the holy warrior. "I hope your god's be with ya and your men, Sir Dural."

The knight nodded. "Take it easy riding out of the village. Save your horses energy in case the orcs try to stop you from getting down the road, then you can gallop full speed to evade them without the horse getting exhausted. Once you've made it a few miles down the road, ride as fast as you can. Do not stop until you get all the way to Waterdeep."

"I understand. Those buggers won't catch me and Fern here," he replied while patting the palomino horse on its shoulder flank.

"May Tyr's blessing be on you and your journey, Nesroth."


	16. Chapter 15

Dagger of Souls

*** Chapter 15 ***

Einlan scanned the cloudy grey sky above as a sleek bird descended toward him. The sparrow hawk fluttered its blue-grey wings as it came in close and landed gracefully on the elf's slender, outstretched arm. The bird let out a series of chirps and whistles. Its black pupils swirled inside golden eyes with streaks of orange as it scanned the other people standing near its wizard master. The elf turned to the paladin as he pointed east where the bird flew in from. "The orcs are coming from that direction, and they are getting close."

"How close?" the knight asked anxiously.

Einlan shrugged his slender shoulders. "My companion cannot comprehend precise time or distance as we would understand it. Best I can say is that they are close."

Sergeant Dural turned and signaled to his men waiting nearby. They motioned their acknowledgment and cocked the strings of their loaded crossbows so that they were ready to fire the steel bolts that waited in the grooved chamber. The soldiers split up into two groups of three and headed in opposite directions, disappearing behind the small cottages and barns to the east. After the men were sent to their positions the holy warrior turned to face the wizard. "Thank you for the information, good elf. It is a great help to know at least where they are currently, provided they don't change course again. Could you send the bird out to fly over the orcs again and then return here directly? We can make a better estimate of the distance and make sure that they are still headed in the same direction."

The elf gave a nod and began to speak with the sparrow hawk in his native elvish language. The bird seemed to understand his words and chirped a response before it took off towards the woods to the east.

The knight checked that the wide bladed sword in the scabbard at his side would pull free easily and adjusted the polished steel shield on his arm. He looked at the man next to him clad in tightly fitted studded black leather. "Keltar, are your traps ready along the eastern side of the village?"

The messenger gave him a devious grin, "I had enough time with the help of several villagers to set them all around the perimeter of town. There are a few in that general direction, although as you know they will have to be sprung manually."

Dural thought it was very risky to rely on manually setting off the traps, but they didn't want to set trip wires that could be set off accidentally by the villagers or their children. The town elders had insisted on that, which was a fair precaution, though it made it much more difficult for them to execute their plan.

The rogue warrior checked the knives and his short sword to make sure they were secured properly, then turned to head out toward his position.

The priestess caught a hold of his arm before he left and spoke to him softly. "Keltar. May Selune watch over you my friend. Be careful and just remember that I may be able to heal the wounded, but I cannot raise the dead."

A wide smile spread across the man's lips, partially concealed by the long, dark bangs that hung over half his face. He was touched by the genuine concern in her melodic voice. "I don't plan on joining the spirit world just yet. I wouldn't mind seeing your pretty face again, so I promise not to do anything too foolish."

Cera blushed at his direct comment, something unusual for the brooding man. She flashed him a grin as he departed to carry out his part of the battle plan. There was nothing more she could do but wait, so she began to pray to the moon goddess for their divine favor in the coming encounter.

The sparrow hawk returned after a few minutes and landed on the wizards shoulder. It began squawking and chirping wildly. It seemed to be very nervous about the orc invaders, which was a sentiment shared by most of the people defending the town.

Einlan relayed the information quickly. "They are coming in the same direction and moving at a brisk pace. Based on how fast she can normally fly and the time it took her to return, I would estimate they are about five or six minutes away from reaching us."

The knight had figured the east would have been the most likely ingress point since the woods in that direction had the most evergreen trees and thick underbrush which would best mask their approach. The fact that they were using that tactic further convinced him that they were aware of the soldiers in town. He had hoped that their military presence would catch the orcs completely by surprise but at least the wizard's pet helped give them an advantage by being ready for their attack, while the marauders still believed they were closing in undetected. With the number of seasoned warriors in their raiding group, that advantage was critical. "It is time to get into position in the eastern facing cottage."

Dural turned to Klenn who was pacing behind him. The knight had asked the farm boy to be the liaison to the other villagers that volunteered to help with the ranged assault using the bows they had made over the last several days. "Go and get the villagers set up along the cottages to the east. Make sure they do not fire until I give the signal." After that he led the priestess and wizard into an empty cottage where they opened a window shutter in the back room to look out into the wilderness where they expected the orcs to approach. The knight scanned the tree line looking for any signs of movement. He pulled out the hollowed out bone tusk they used for an alarm horn and kept it at the ready to signal his troops.

A loud yell suddenly echoed through the cold air, which made all of their heartbeats quicken instantly. It sounded to be human, most likely from the messenger but Dural had never heard the man yell before. The sound was followed by orc battle cries and other loud commands in the harsh, guttural tongue of the brutish humanoids. The sound of boots crunching against the packed snow, along with twigs and branches snapping began to rise to a crescendo before they began to see the movement of bodies through the trees. The battle for the defense of Stalford had begun.

Keltar darted swiftly through the trees as he headed toward their position. He was being chased by four orc warriors. The roguish warrior kept himself about five paces ahead of his pursuers as they approached the gap between fences that led to the cottage where Cera and the others were waiting. The paladin was chagrinned at the low number of orcs following the messenger. That meant that the orcs held back the rest of the raiders from the pursuit. They were probably going to see how the town reacted to the advance warriors, a tactic he would have probably used himself. "Einlan we need your bird to scout out the remaining orcs and find out what they are doing now," he requested urgently.

The elf relayed the message and sent the bird out of the window again on its assignment as the messenger emerged from the trees into the clearing behind the cottages. Keltar continually glanced back to keep his pursuers at the same distance behind him as he ran down the gap between fenced in fields. He came to a spot between several short, wooden posts and seemed to trip and fall to the ground face first. The orcs kept their axes ready to strike as they barreled toward the fallen man, three of them in front and a straggler a few paces behind the others.

Keltar dug at the snow and pulled up a rope up that was hidden just beneath the surface. He yanked it hard just before the marauders reached the wooden posts. The rope was connected to a rectangular wooden assembly buried face down in the snow that snapped up and locked itself against the wooden posts, creating a wooden fence about the height of the orcs' thighs. The three beams running horizontally had sharpened wooden stakes jutting outward toward the woods, where the humanoids were closing in. The three warriors leading the pursuit watched in horror at the trap that sprung up in front of them. They could not stop their momentum in time and slammed into the barrier. The low position of the fence caused them to flip over the trap. The sharpened stakes tore at their legs and ripped off huge chunks of flesh, muscle and sinew as they tumbled forward. The messenger rolled out of the way of the falling mass of thick bodies. Several of their bones snapped from the heavy impact of hitting the cold ground awkwardly and rolling end over end. They left a trail of brackish colored blood in their wake before they skidded to a stop a few paces away. One orc's head was twisted at such a grotesque angle that his beady black eyes stared up lifelessly into the grey sky while the rest of its crumpled body remained face down. The other two had several badly broken bones that jutted out of their green flesh and appeared to be rendered completely immobile and unconscious. The fourth orc was able change direction to avoid the trap but slowed down as he viewed the gruesome damage that was done to his brethren.

The beast's entire face twisted into a sneer of rage at the sight of the carnage. He turned to face the human who sprung the deadly trap on them, its jutting tusks fully bared in a vicious snarl. Keltar repositioned himself so that the bodies of the fallen humanoids remained between him and the enraged orc. He taunted the green skinned invader as he took a few steps backward, "Come and get me, you ugly bastard!"

Cera started to move toward the door with a worried look on her face, but Sir Dural grabbed her arm and held her back. "No. He will be alright. We don't want to make a move yet to alert the other orcs."

The priestess gave him a frustrated glare, but refrained from going outside as she watched the large humanoid sprint toward the roguish warrior.

The orc did not slow down as he ran at the messenger but had to hop to avoid the twisted bodies between them. That maneuver at the speed he was moving caused him to lose his footing and fall on his side as he slid across the snowy ground. Before the orc could recover from the slip, Keltar pounced on him and plunged his short sword deeply into the creature's ribs. The orc marauder howled in pain as the messenger twisted the blade before yanking it out. Its screams ended a few moments later as its body went limp.

The messenger glanced back at the other three injured orcs to check if he needed to finish them, but was satisfied their massive injuries were fatal. He wiped the thick, brackish orc blood covering his blade on the dirty fur tunic the creature was wearing, then returned it to the sheath on his back.

The small sparrow hawk dove down and landed gracefully on the window sill in front of Dural and Einlan. The wizard knelt down and put his hand on the window allowing the bird to walk up his arm. The avian creature began to chirp and cluck as its small head and curved black beak jerked from side to side looking around the room. It raised one wing up and held it out. Einlan nodded and translated the report. "They stopped when they heard the human yelling. They split up when some of the orcs started chasing the human. The ones that didn't give chase turned and headed north. One of the green humanoids moved closer to the village but remained in the trees."

The knight smoothed his thick mustache as he listened. "A scout no doubt. Ask your companion if he can follow their main group from a distance and come back to us when they turn back toward town."

The elf turned to the bird and began to relay the orders from the paladin. It let out a loud screech as it flapped its wings quickly and took flight. The wizard turned to Dural and narrowed his slanted eyes and crossed his hands over his chest. "It is not a he, it is a she and her name is Elyria."

The knight blinked a few times staring at the upset wizard. He realized he was probably treating the bird like a tool instead of a living creature. "My apologies, Einlan. I didn't know her gender. Elyria is a very nice name and be sure to give her my thanks for her invaluable aid, when she returns again."

The elf seemed to be satisfied with the statement and nodded. "I will pass her your sentiments."

Keltar approached close to the window but did not look in. "The rest of the force is waiting about fifty to sixty paces into the trees, I think."

Sir Dural shook his head, but realized the man couldn't see him. "Not anymore. They are moving north, except for one orc who moved closer, most likely a scout that came to watch the result of your successful attack. Einlan's sparrow hawk," he looked over at the elf and added, "Elyria, went to follow them. Now they are down to eleven, a much more comfortable number of opponents. Great job with those traps, they were very effective."

"Actually they are down to only ten. I snuck up and slit the throat of one as they passed my hiding place in the woods. That's when they started to chase me. I was hoping all of them would follow when I screamed at them, but their leader held the rest back."

The paladin was encouraged to hear that the number of enemies had dwindled considerably without any loss or injuries, but he also knew the remaining orcs wouldn't fall for their tricks so easily next time. The knight held the horn up to his lips and blew three quick blasts that carried through the cold air. "Let us regroup outside and wait for a report of their location."

Within a minute the two groups of soldiers emerged from between cottages and mustered together in front of Sergeant Dural on the snow covered dirt road that ran through the tiny village.

The knight stood tall and proud as he prepared to address the soldiers, as Klenn, Einlan and Cera waited behind him. "Men, this is what we have trained for. They are moving north now. We will utilize the same flanking defense that we planned. Do not attack until I give the signal, and stay well hidden until then. Thanks to Keltar, they now have four less warriors to use against us."

As the soldiers began to cheer at the good news, the elf's avian companion flew into their midst, flapping its wings like mad to slow its rapid descent which flung small blue-grey feathers in the air. It landed on the elf's shoulder and began squawking hysterically and pointing its feathered wing. Einlan looked a little troubled as he relayed the message. "Orcs are coming fast from the north. She says they are holding sticks of fire. They are much closer than before."

The paladin released a frustrated sigh that created a long line of mist in the cold air. "It appears they have changed tactics. They are going to try and burn the village."


	17. Chapter 16

Dagger of Souls

*** Chapter 16 ***

The small group of soldiers began to murmur amongst themselves about the orcs' new plan to torch the town. "Listen to me," Sir Dural yelled to get the soldiers' attention before they started to work themselves into a panic. He pulled his steel bastard sword free of its worn but well maintained leather scabbard and held it in the air above his polished helm. The purple flume that hung down behind it fluttered in the cold breeze along with his black and gold cape. "Men, the battle is upon us. Now is the time to bring honor to yourselves and your family, to show your courage in the face of the enemy. The town of Stalford is looking to us as their protectors, to give them peace from the enslavement and butchery of these savage beasts. Today we deliver justice in honor of those who have fallen and suffered at the evil clutches of these vicious heathens. Your bravery here will be in the songs of Bards across the Western Heartlands. Together we shall prevail. Onward to victory!"

The soldiers drew their swords and waved them in the air, inspired by the paladin's speech of heroism they began to repeat the mantra, "To victory!"

The sergeant let them chant for a minute and then motioned for them to quiet down so he could issue new orders. "Wylan take your group to the northeast. Take up positions inside the fenced fields. Shoot crossbows first until they engage us in melee battle. Bandon take your group a little northwest and we will try to surround them and cut them to pieces. We must prevent them from getting within throwing distance of the cottages. Go now and get into position and wait for my signal. Dismissed and justice be with you."

The men gave a hearty salute and hurried off to their assigned area. The stout paladin turned around and waved for Klenn to move forward. "Get the village archers into the cottages quickly. After that, I need you to go and recruit more villagers to fill up buckets with snow and ice to put out any fires."

The sergeant searched for the rogue warrior but didn't see him anywhere. He prayed that the messenger was out scouting and setting up for the attack, though he would have preferred to know where. Cera unclipped the mace from her belt and held it in her hand. She donned her steel helm and adjusted her long chestnut hair underneath it. The weapon she wielded was basically a steel club with a heavy square head, engraved in white with her goddess' moon and star symbol.

Einlan whispered a few words to his winged companion and it flew up and perched on top of a nearby barn. He adjusted the long oak bow on his shoulder and glanced back at the knight. "I am going to join Elyria on the rooftop so that I may have a better view of the battlefield."

Sir Dural nodded his agreement. "Yes, that would be wise. That way they they'll be unable to attack you directly and prevent you from using your magic. Just be careful up there in the snow."

Einlan responded with a smile. "I will be fine. Good home to you, Sir Dural." It was a typical elf sentiment, translated into human words it was a little confusing, but it basically meant to give blessings or good tidings.

"Good home to you as well, elf friend," he responded in kind.

The wizard bounded gracefully across the snow covered ground and stepped up on a window sill, climbed over the ledge above the window frame and then walked up to the apex of the snow covered thatched roof.

Cera and Sir Dural walked around the cottages and barns to the north side where the orcs would soon be upon them. He found similar wooden stumps nearby like the ones to the east Keltar used to spring his trap. He noticed the rope just beneath the snow, similar to the one the rogue used to raise the spiked fence. He craned his neck to look back at the priestess. "We will stay here behind this trap. They probably won't be fooled by it again, but if they do charge us we can activate it. If they approach cautiously the soldiers and townsfolk can unleash a hail of bolts and arrows on them. We will have to clash with whoever makes it through in close combat. Are you ready?"

The priestess was calm and her deep blue eyes were alert and focused. "With the grace of the Selune," she answered to his query.

The sergeant studied her tender face for any hint of hesitation or fear and there was none, her eyes only displayed inner strength and sincere compassion. He felt confident and secure with her by his side. Her soft eyes and pale, milky skin seemed to contrast the open faced war helm she wore, which matched the dichotomy of her personality. The holy warrior displayed a brief smile and then turned to scan the farmland for any sign of the enemy.

He didn't have long to wait before they spotted the yellow-orange glow of torches moving through the leafless winter trees in the distance. The orcs approached in rows of two so it was difficult to see the exact number of warriors in the raiding party. The knight continued to be amazed at Sho'Varg's tactics. This leader was far more intelligent than most people believed possible of any orc. Most people believed they were all mindless savages that attacked anything on sight. If it weren't for their bird spy they could have been tricked into thinking their forces were split, making them thin out their defenses to cover the whole village. Sergeant Dural blew the alarm horn with one long blast to signal his men to be ready as the orcs approached close to the edge of the nearest tree line. The marauders were moving in a fast paced march. They began to fan out as they emerged from the woods into the open, snow covered farming fields. He could hear the elf wizard's arcane chant carrying through the still, cold air. He glanced up at Einlan as yellowish white crackling energy swirled around his outstretched hands. A brilliant flash of white hot lightning streaked from his fingertips and arched across the fields striking two of the orcs. The green skinned warriors' howls of pain ended abruptly as their charred, smoldering bodies fell to the ground. The remaining orcs each began to sprint with their torches in tow toward different farm houses, except the orc leader who hung back near the tree line.

The holy warrior grimaced in consternation as he examined the battle unfolding around him. They didn't charge directly at him so his plan to funnel them in the center and surround them was thwarted. The paladin blew his horn with a series of blasts, short-long-short-long, signaling the soldiers and villagers to begin the aerial assault. Loud twangs of bow strings recoiling filled the air as the city guardsmen and town archers unleashed their deadly missiles at the incoming horde. The sprinting humanoids proved difficult targets. Only one orc fell and two others were slightly injured from the barrage of bolts and arrows. Sir Dural knew with the quick pace and spread formation that they wouldn't be able to inflict many casualties with the ranged weapons from these inexperienced shooters. The sergeant decided to abandon his defensive position and move up to stop the nearest orc before he could get close enough to launch a torch at one of the nearby cottages. He glanced at the priestess briefly as he began to move out toward the northeast where four of the marauders headed. She nodded in understanding of the change of plans and followed in his wake.

The armored warrior closed in on the nearest orc, but the green skinned creature spotted the knight moving in to cut him off and tried to launch the torch toward the building. It flew end over end but was too far away and hit the ground short, causing it to fizzle as the snow extinguished the flame. The orc attempted to raise its axe weapon but Sir Dural was already upon him, swinging mightily toward the creatures exposed ribs with his full momentum. The sounds of cracking bone reverberated through the fields as the gleaming bastard sword exploded through the green skinned invader's rib cage slicing almost all the way to its midsection. The knight pulled the gore covered blade free and turned to analyze the battlefield again as the orc twisted and crumpled to the snow in a bloody heap.

Cera moved to the right and halted near Sir Dural where she concentrated on the next closest target making its way toward another farmhouse. As it moved within range of throwing its torch she began to chant while holding her mace in the air pointed toward the orc. Her voice seemed to echo and distort as if her divine pleas traveled to otherworldly dimensions. The star shaped birthmark above her right eye began to illuminate as divine energy surged through her. The orc suddenly stopped mid motion just as it reared back to throw the pitch covered flaming stick. The marauder appeared to be frozen in place like a flesh covered statue, the only movement being the dancing flame of the torch still held tight in its large green hand.

The priestess wasted no time and gave no quarter to the helpless humanoid as she charged forward and slammed the square weighted end of her mace against the side of the paralyzed orc's wide head. Dark blood gushed freely down its filthy ear and neck as it toppled over, still postured in the same throwing position as it fell sideways on the snowy ground

Einlan began chanting again in arcane elvish from the nearby rooftop. His voice took on a mystical power as the magical weave coalesced in his palms while he moved his hands in intricate, flowing patterns. A cloud of shimmering gold energy formed around his arms as he completed his incantation. He thrust his first and middle fingers outward toward one of the orcs moving to the northwest portion of town. The cloud formed into three shimmering gold orbs as it flew from his finger tips leaving a trail of golden sparks like a comet behind them. The orc saw the magical energy coming for him and rolled to the ground, but the magical orbs followed his movements and swooped downward striking the creature squarely in the back. The orc convulsed as the arcane energy burned through his clothes and skin and seared his internal organs.

The one remaining orc to the northwest somehow got through another hail of arrows and launched its torch at a small cottage. It smashed against the house causing the flaming pitch to splatter across the wall and dark smoke to billow in the air as the hot flames took hold. The three Waterdeep guardsmen let loose another volley of steel bolts with two of them finding their mark. One of the steel shafts punctured the creature's chest just above its pectoral muscle, while the other sunk deep into its thick gut. It staggered a few steps before falling to its knees and finally landing face first into soft snow.

Klenn and two other villagers immediately went into action and tossed buckets of snow on top of the searing flames, putting the fire out before it spread throughout the entire building.

A bestial scream ripped through the air as Sho'Varg charged toward Sir Dural from across the field. The brute was enraged at the heavy losses his forces sustained and appeared to be looking to exact his vengeance on the human leader.

The two orcs that spread out farther to the northeast moved into range and flung their torches at two separate cottages. The pitch struck the wood walls of both buildings. The oily flames ignited the cold wood causing the fire to expand and intensify rapidly. Wylan and his men rushed to load more bolts into their crossbows and fired at the nearest orc who was injured from the initial volley. The orc dove behind a stack of chopped wood when he saw them taking aim at him and just barely avoided several of the sharp, steel projectiles. The orc furthest east escaped the arrows that the villagers fired from nearby windows and circled back to the soldier's right flank and hopped over the short fence surrounding the field they were positioned in. The orc behind the wood pile stood up and turned to join in and charge at the three soldiers before they could reload again. Keltar appeared suddenly and rolled out from his hiding place on the other side of the wood pile and sliced at the orc's hamstring before it could turn the corner. The thick padding it wore protected it from a deep gash, but the quick attack was enough to draw blood and its full attention. The injured beast spun around to face the new threat, while the other orc continued its charge from the soldier's right side. Wylan and his men had no time reload before it would reach them, so they dropped their crossbows and readied their long swords instead. The orc let out a loud battle cry as it lunged at Rork, a short soldier with curly brown hair. The youthful guardsman did his best to try and deflect the weapon, but the burly creature rammed the sharp spear tip at the top of the curved axe head into the soldier's armored chest. The blow drove deep through the chain mesh armor, penetrating flesh and bone as it knocked him several feet backward where he collapsed, clutching desperately at the deep wound.

Cera watched the hulking orc officer rapidly close in on Sir Dural and she advanced to join him as the warrior completed a prayer of strength and favor from his deity. He waved her off as she approached and pointed his sword toward the close quarter battle with the two remaining soldiers. "No. Help them!"

She gave him a huff and an icy stare, but heeded his command and ran toward the wounded soldier lying in the snow attempting to hold back the tide of surging blood escaping his chest.

The knight's prayer for divine aid was answered swiftly, just as Sho'Varg reached him. Every joint and muscle in his body tingled from the holy power surging through him. The orc officer ran at him with his large axes' spear point in front. The move seemed to be reckless and obvious, but he concentrated on the orc's stance and body movement to try and anticipate his real intention. He noticed the orc pivot at the last moment and knew the beast was going to shift into another attack. The sergeant side stepped the initial attack from the spear end of the axe weapon and then stepped up. The orc stopped short and spun around, swinging the axe in a wide arc with incredible force, but the paladin had head already stepped forward out of the way. Dural turned quickly and leapt forward swinging the wide, gleaming blade downward toward the back of the beast's head. The green skinned humanoid spun away from the blow, but the tip of the wide blade still took a decent chunk of flesh from the back of its broad shoulder.

Keltar widened his stance as his opponent brought the curved axed blade straight down. The messenger hopped sideways and spun around using his momentum to swing in a low arc. The blow connected solidly, nearly cutting the orc's wide leg in two. The creature could no longer support its enormous weight and fell to the ground growling in agony as its life blood pooled in the snow around him. The grounded orc managed to balance on one elbow and make a feeble attempt to jab its axe at him. The rogue warrior used his sword to parry the curved axe head to the side and then stepped on the orc's beefy hand holding the weapon. With his other boot he kicked the beast hard in the face, smashing its wide nose. Keltar then bounded toward the two soldiers squaring off with remaining orc soldier. The priestess was several paces ahead of him, just now reaching the orc warrior after circling behind it. She swung her mace and clouted the thick warrior in the lower back. The two guardsmen took advantage as the orc reeled from the woman's solid blow and slashed at its chest and abdomen before it could regain its balance. The burly humanoid fell forward, spewing blood heavily from several deep wounds. Wylan plunged his blade into the creature's back to be sure it would not rise again.

Cera raced toward the wounded soldier, but was disheartened to see Rork was no longer holding his chest and his pale hands were limp at his side as he stared blankly skyward. She stopped and placed her firm, slender hand underneath his nostrils to check for any signs of breathing. Finding none she checked his skin and it had already gone cold and pale. She checked the artery in his neck for a heartbeat, but there was no sign of a pulse. The priestess let out a mournful sigh and pushed his eyes shut, lamenting over the fact that the soldier was barely old enough to be considered a man.

The sergeant fought with religious fervor against the enormous opponent. They traded blows and both inflicted several wounds as a result. He spotted the soldiers moving to engage and barked at them while he braced his shield against the officer's fierce attack. "Men, stay back. That's an order."

Keltar saw the holy warrior's shoulder bleeding profusely from a gaping wound and noticed a visible limp on his right leg as he moved. The battle was nearly a stalemate, but the messenger planned to turn the odds in his favor as he moved to flank the opponent. He tried to come in close and strike at its exposed legs, but the orc was wary of the move and kicked his booted foot at the messenger's sword hand before he could complete his swing. It nearly knocked the weapon from his hand and caused him to stumble from the unexpected change in momentum.

Dural used the distraction to swing diagonally across the orc officer's midsection. The blade severed mostly through the orc's hide armor drawing a fresh line of brackish blood across its green skin. Keltar and the knight began to maneuver trying to get a better position, while the orc tried to keep both men in front of him. The brute started toward Dural and then turned and swung wildly at Keltar expecting him to try and seize the opportunity. The tactic worked well as the messenger moved forward to attack, he found the huge axe head whistling toward his abdomen. The messenger was able to halt and twist back to avoid the worst of the blow but it still ripped a large gash through the studded black leather armor. He felt his own warm blood running down his gut underneath his armor. He ignored the pain and slashed downward with his blade slicing deeply across the back of the orc's muscular, green arm. Sir Dural also scored another blow to the officer's thigh. The snow beneath the orc was no longer white from the creature's murky blood peppered around the area below him from numerous lacerations. He had trouble standing but somehow the huge creature kept fighting.

The soldiers obeyed their orders to stay back though their grim faces showed they didn't like them at all. They loaded their crossbows with steel bolts and kept them trained on the orc but held back for fear of hitting their sergeant or the messenger.

Cera moved in despite looks from both men to warn her away. She waited until the orc had tried to dodge blows from both and then came in to clout the officer on the head. He was able to move enough to only take the blow on the shoulder. The two men seemed to be spurred by the woman putting herself in danger and attacked quickly. Keltar struck its right forearm and Dural was able to swing as the orc's attention was split and catch the creature in the side of the head causing it to twist violently. The beast tried desperately to keep its feet under him but the heavy blow caused it to lose all sense of balance. The orc officer toppled over backward like a tree felled for lumber. Keltar stepped on its axe so that he couldn't try one last move and Sir Dural stood over Sho'Varg pinning his chest down with his boot. "For the crimes against the people of Stalford, your life is forfeit." He plunged the wide blade down into the orc's black heart.


	18. Chapter 17

Dagger of Souls

*** Chapter 17 ***

Exhausted and bleeding the knight tossed his dented steel shield to the ground and dropped to one knee. He glanced at Cera who stood watching him with her slender arms folded across her chest. Dural found it hard to miss the agitation in her icy gaze. "I only wanted you to stay back to protect you. Once the orc realized he could not best me he would have tried to take out a weaker foe. He was out for anyone's blood and you shouldn't have given him that opportunity." He looked at Keltar, "either of you."

The priestess' glower made the stout warrior flinch a bit, and her voice was no less scathing. "Now listen here, Sir Smugness. I'm no midwife running amuck in the battlefield. I've seen my share of fights and I can handle myself just fine. I don't need your coddling and I'm not under your command."

The messenger folded his arms as he displayed his own displeased glare. "I completely agree with Cera. We have both survived numerous combat encounters without your illustrious protection. I am the one the Lord's of Waterdeep asked to hold this investigation and I am not under your command either, not to mention the fact that I took out nearly half of their forces on my own."

"That's not what I meant, I wasn't trying to belittle your contributions, nor keep you out of the battle completely. But the orc leader was very adept with his axe, without the divine aid of Tyr I might not have survived myself. He almost took you out when he turned to attack you, if he landed a solid blow you may have been killed. I understood what Sho'Varg was thinking. He knew he was outnumbered and was going to try to take out an easier opponent before he perished. You have excellent skills, but mostly in subterfuge and not in direct melee combat, just as Cera is primarily a healer first."

The rogue warrior only seemed more agitated at the explanation. "Any one of the blows you received could have been fatal as well. Being better in combat doesn't guarantee a victory. We all have many risks in a fight, and it's our choice to accept them, even if it's against a superior opponent. It's not your place to decide what risks we are to take."

Sergeant Dural was too tired to argue. He knew that the orc officer was way more skilled than either could handle in close combat, even if they fought together. But he didn't want to insult them further so he let it go. He looked to the soldier's body slumped in the churned up snow and then back to Cera. "Rork?"

Cera shook her head solemnly as she stared at the lifeless pale corpse. Her face softened along with her voice. "I was too late. He passed on before I could reach him."

Sir Dural glimpsed the somber faces of the guardsmen, as he took a deep breath and stood up. "Rork died a hero, defending the people of Stalford from further orc atrocities. I knew him only a short time, but I was proud of his contribution. He was a fine soldier, and died in the line of duty and the pursuit of justice. There is no greater honor for a true warrior. His god will gladly claim his soul from the Fugue Plane in the afterlife."

He rubbed a hand on his injured shoulder that was still bleeding and looked over at the fires burning in two cottages. Klenn and a few villagers continued to scoop up buckets of snow and toss them on the two blazing cottages. "Men, I need you to help the villagers douse the fires and then resume normal watches. There are still more orcs out there and we must remain vigilant. You all did very well in defending this town. I shall write a request for commendations for each of you."

Wylan moved forward from the group. "Sir, what should we do about Rork's body?"

"Go help with the fires first, that's our priority right now. We will have a memorial service for him later tonight." The holy warrior unclasped his long black cloak with golden trim and draped it over the upper portion of the deceased soldier's body.

The soldiers saluted the sergeant and headed off to help the villagers get the fires under control. The paladin whispered a prayer that caused his hand glow in a soft golden light, as he held it over his bleeding shoulder. The wound illuminated from within with bright light as the cut sealed shut. He limped over next to the messenger, as Cera used her healing powers on Keltar's deep gash. The sergeant addressed both of them after she finished. "I need to check on Gansen, and then make a report to send to Waterdeep. I'll be in my assigned cottage."

The Moonmaiden devotee noticed the holy warrior's difficulty walking and the numerous wounds still bleeding. "Let me take care of those injuries for you."

"I'll be fine, I just need to rest and write up a report on the orc attack."

The priestess flashed him another scowl. "Will you stop being so thick-headed! You ordered your soldiers to be vigilant, and you should follow your own advice. You need to be completely healthy in case of another attack." She tapped on the mace clipped to her belt as she continued. "Now stand still and let me tend to your wounds, or I'll have to treat you for head trauma shortly."

The paladin was taken aback by her tone and idle threat, but knew her words made sense. He responded sheepishly. "You are right. I am sorry. I just wanted to check if Gansen finished the map so we can find their camp, and fill out the reports to send to my superiors. Please proceed and I appreciate your kind assistance."

Cera's face still remained in a frown, despite the attempt at an apology. She inspected his wounds carefully and called upon the divine power of the moon goddess. Her slender hand and the star shaped scar above her eye became luminescent with a pale bluish tint as she moved her open palm over his various injuries. The cuts and bruises brightened to almost pure white as the magical energy enveloped them and disappeared, returning his flesh to normal. "You're welcome," she added with lingering frustration in her voice as she left to check on the burning buildings.

"Keltar," Dural called to the black leather-clad man. "I realize I cannot order you, but do you think when the fires are extinguished you and Einlan could scout the area and make sure there are no more orcs nearby?"

The messenger stopped and looked back over his shoulder. "I was already planning to take a look around. I believe Einlan may have already sent his bird companion to search the area," he added before taking off to help the villagers.

More inhabitants of town emerged and lent a hand to combat the fires, which were snuffed out before any extensive damage was incurred. The cold snow on the roof tops helped to slow the spread of the fire as the heat melted it and soaked the log frames.

Sir Dural walked over to the town leader's cellar that was used as the safe house. Most of the people were leaving the shelter as they received word that the battle had ended. He stopped a villager with a thick beard and mustache as he exited the cellar door. "Excuse me, but do you know if Gansen is still in there?"

The husky villager nodded, "Yeah, he's in there drawing something on a piece of parchment. Great job taking care of them green bastards! We owe ya a bunch. Sorry to hear one of the soldiers didn't make it. That's a durn shame."

The sergeant nodded solemnly, "Yes, it was a tragic loss. But he died in his duty, and there is no shame it that."

The villager nodded and patted the paladin's shoulder as he headed home.

Dural walked down the steep stairs to the wine cellar. There were just a few people left. Gansen was in the corner sitting at a table, busy drawing under the lamplight. He walked up behind him and peeked over his shoulder to study his progress.

Gansen glanced back at him. "I told ya it was gonna to be a pretty ugly lookin' sketch. I'm just about done with it."

"It looks fine to me, well done." The holy warrior pointed at a couple of squares on left side of the map. "Is that the orc encampment?"

"Yep. This line running close to it is a gaming trail. You can take it up after following down the stream a ways, here. But this time of year the trail's covered in snow and it will be durn near impossible to follow, even if ya knew the trail was there."

"It should be good enough. We have a couple skilled trackers, given the general location I think we'll be able to find their base of operations. It looks like someone bandaged your feet up pretty well. I can help you to Hadenna's so she can give you further treatment whenever you're ready."

"I was gonna to head to my cabin, me wife already went on home to start on our supper. I ain't ate nothin' but soup since I got back. Anyways, the healer done looked me over and she rubbed some of those herbs of hers on me feet already. I reckon my drawing is finished, I was just gonna ask Hadenna to jot down some notes for me on the map."

Dural realized the hunter and likely most of the villagers in the tiny hamlet never learned to read and write. They learned their skills through apprenticeship with relatives or neighbors and had little use for books and papers. "I'll write in the notes. Just tell me what you need me to put down."

The gruff looking man rattled off several notations about numerous landmarks he had drawn on the map between town and the orc fort location. The paladin scribed all the information onto the parchment. "Is that everything?"

"Well, that's about all ya ought to need to find that stinkin' place."

"Very good. Thank you for drawing this for us."

The ex-prisoner poked a calloused finger at the holy warrior's chest. "I didn't just do this for you. I drew this so you can go save 'em. They took a huge risk in helpin' me escape. A couple of them might even have gotten beat to death for it."

Dural held his fist over his heart. "I swear to you, we will do our best to rescue them. Now let's get you home so you can rest properly and get some nourishment."

The villager scratched his dirty, scraggly beard. "Nourishment? You city folk sure do talk funny."

The paladin just smiled as he helped the escaped prisoner up the steep steps out of the wine cellar, and allowed the man to use his shoulder to keep himself balanced while walking across the village

"Gansen, how far along are they with this fort they are trying to build?"

"They got the corner pieces and support beams up and dug in and ready. We just finished up the first wall before I got away. Most of the lumber is ready for the second wall but they just started bindin' the sections together."

"How far apart are the corner pieces?"

"Um, I reckon they are about thirty paces between the ones on the shorter side and maybe forty on the longer side."

The holy warrior stopped walking, nearly causing the villager to fall over. He caught the gruff man and kept him on his feet.

Gansen cocked his head and looked quizzically at the knight. "What the heck is wrong?"

"The size you are describing could fit an entire garrison of over a hundred troops. You said there was only ten to fifteen orcs back at the camp, plus the fifteen that we defeated here. That doesn't make sense to build a structure of that size for thirty warriors."

The bearded man just shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe they just like to have plenty 'o room. They're makin' us do most the work anyways."

The sergeant kept quiet and started walking again. He knew that orcs did not care about extra space, but he didn't want to worry the man further. He had been through enough trouble as it was.

The knight dropped off the ex-captive and then headed back toward his quarters. He spotted a stocky soldier, with wavy light brown hair walking down the road. "Horlin," he yelled out, while motioning for the guardsmen to come over. The soldier rushed over to him and gave a quick salute. "Sir…"

Sir Dural interrupted before he could finish his sentence. "Listen to me. I need you to find Cera and Keltar. Have them meet me in my quarters."

"Sir, I was just coming to find you. Keltar requested that you to come and speak with some people he found. Him and that elf wizard was scouting the area and discovered two people, a man and a woman that were headed into town. They spoke briefly and then he asked me to hurry and get you. I didn't hear the conversation, but he thought they had some important information."

"They were human?"

"The man was, but the woman looks like she is part elf. They both look a bit odd, though."

"Odd, eh. Well then let's go meet them."

The broad shouldered guardsman led the knight to the outskirts of the village where Keltar and Einlan were conversing with a tall man and a short, wafer thin woman. Both were dressed with brown and green colored leather and padded clothing, underneath cloaks of grey wolf fur. The woman had dark brown hair that was pulled back over her small, slightly pointed ears. Her hair twisted into a bun around a small tree branch, with excess hair spilling down past her shoulders that was wrapped into a tight pony tail by what looked like a green vine. She leaned on what appeared to be a long, oak tree branch about two inches in diameter and standing as tall as the woman. The man had wild, dirty blonde hair that went in all directions, with bits of leaves caught in the odd lochs. He had a long bow and quiver slung over his shoulder and a curved sword in a dirty scabbard on his belt. His dark brown eyes darted alertly between the wizard and messenger.

When the knight arrived, Keltar turned so that the two strangers and the knight were both in front of him. He held his hand out and waved it toward the sergeant. "This is the leader of the Waterdhavian guardsmen that was sent here to protect the village of Stalford, Sir Dural, paladin of Tyr."

The part elf woman's hazel eyes were slightly angular as were her high cheeks. Her skin was smooth and took on a light bronze tone. She stepped forward and bowed her head slightly in a gesture of greeting. "I am Jaceira of Drenwood." She gestured toward the tall man, "and this is my friend, Arden."

Sir Dural gave a slight bow to the strangers. "Hail and well met. What brings you to the town of Stalford?"

The part elven woman studied the sergeant carefully a few moments before responding. "We are with the Council of Protectors, a group of people dedicated to the preservation of the pristine beauty of the wilderness, and to maintain the balance in nature. We have heard of orc activity in this area and came to investigate. Your friend has told us that you have just battled with the orcs and have discovered an orc camp in the area."

The knight nodded in response, as he gave a questioning look to the rogue warrior and wizard. "That is correct. They have been raiding the village of Stalford for food and supplies. Please excuse me for a moment while I speak with my colleagues regarding some recent news."

Dural took them out of earshot before he spoke. "How much have you two told them? We don't know who the orcs are working for, and we should be cautious about any information we divulge."

Keltar responded. "Relax. I just told them we had a fierce battle with the green skins while protecting the town from another raid. I also told them we know they have an orc camp nearby. That is all the information I have given them, other than we were sent here to protect the village."

The paladin peeked over to Arden and the part elf woman. "What do you two think about them?"

The rogue warrior shrugged his shoulders. "They seem genuine. The one fellow seems very quiet, but then so are Einlan and I."

Einlan tilted his head slightly, "I do not believe they have any ill intentions. But we have yet to converse enough to make that determination in complete confidence."

The holy warrior combed his finger and thumb over his long mustache before commenting. "I believe the woman fits the description of a druid. It is said that they have magical abilities given by nature itself and can call upon the creatures and plants of the land. I have also heard that some of them are aggressive against people who establish civilization in their lands. They could possibly be orchestrating these attacks to run off the villagers."

The wizard folded his arms in his green robes as he commented. "I have met quite a few druids in my travels, and most of them are solitary and leave people alone, but you are correct, a few hold contempt for humans and the incessant territorial expansion that they believe infringes upon the natural beauty of the land. Although the one thing that almost all druids have in common is their hatred of humanoid races like the orcs. Orc clans tend to be even more destructive to the land than humans and often exploit the resources they need until they are depleted and then move on."

Keltar glanced at the two strangers and then turned his attention back to the paladin. "We should not jump to any conclusions just yet. Let's talk with them and get a feel for their intentions."

"Agreed." The three companions walked over to the two visitors who were talking quietly with each other. Sir Dural cleared his throat to get their attention. "I apologize for the interruption. It's been a difficult day, the orcs tried to burn down this village. If we hadn't stopped them they may have caused a wildfire that spread across the entire area."

Jaceira shook her head and her smooth face twisted in disgust. "The orcs care very little for life or the land, other than what they can steal from it. They are the worst kind of scavengers. This is why we are here. We wish to stop whatever it is that they are planning."

Keltar raised an eyebrow at the comment. "Do you believe they are planning something besides ransacking this village?"

The part elf woman sighed. "Unfortunately we do. We believe that the activity near this village has something to do with the orc clans that have joined forces north of the town of Red Larch."

The knight's eyes widened at hearing the news. "Are you saying that the orcs are forming a coalition, for what purpose? I've always heard orc clans were notoriously territorial and feuded constantly with other clans?"

"You are correct. They typically do not trust each other or anyone else outside of their clan. This is what has us gravely concerned. They cannot remain in such a large group for long without running out of resources and patience, so whatever they have planned will be happening very soon. We have brought this to the leaders of Red Larch because they are only a day's march from reaching them. The town does not think they have anything to fear. They don't believe the orcs would try an outright attack, and if they did they are sure they could hold off a siege until Waterdeep sent reinforcements. They said that even if the orcs somehow take the city, the forces from surrounding regions will undoubtedly take it back quickly. They are not convinced the humanoids would attempt such a futile action."

The paladin nodded. "They do have a defensive wall surrounding the town, and skilled archers in their army. They could hold off attackers of nearly three times the size of their forces for several days. How many orcs are there in this army?"

The other man with wild hair spoke up for the first time. "They have thousands of warriors, and we believe more are being added."

Jaceira nodded. "But the unknown factor is that they are working with humans, and this is deeply troubling. If they get help from inside the town, it could fall swiftly."

Dural studied both visitors carefully and contemplated revealing more information. He believed the druid shared her knowledge openly and honestly with them. "We have evidence that the orcs in the camp nearby are working with humans as well. A villager that was captured escaped and relayed to us that a human visits the camp and takes the female prisoners away. He believes the orcs are taking orders from whatever entity this human is with."

Jaceira shook her head, causing her long pony tail to wriggle around like a serpent. "Then it is as I feared. We have also heard from Red Larch that young women from their town and surrounding farmlands have been abducted over the past few weeks, as well as livestock and supplies from the farms outside the town walls."

Sir Dural felt numb. This small investigation has turned into a large scale situation with far reaching consequences. "Please come to town with us. I must fill out a report and ask the Lord's of Waterdeep for immediate aid. I just found out that by the size of the orc fort being built they could host over a hundred warriors. With your information, I believe an orc war is imminent."


	19. Chapter 18

Dagger of Souls

*** Chapter 18 ***

The paladin of Tyr set the feathered quill back in the vial of black ink as he looked over the parchment containing the completed report and plea for immediate action for additional troops for Stalford and Red Larch. Satisfied with the content he rolled up the paper and picked up a thick, red candle from the desk. He tilted the candle and allowed the hot wax to spill over the parchment until a large round wax seal was formed. He removed the signet ring from his finger and pressed it into the wax seal forming an image that identified him as a leader within the holy order of Tyr. He stretched and let out a yawn, the day's events were starting to catch up with him.

Wylan pushed a strand of his jet black hair back away from his forehead as he watched the sergeant across the room from him. "Sir, how long do you think it will take them to send more troops to help us?"

The holy warrior shook his head. "I wish I knew. If we can get this message to them quickly, maybe a ten-day they can gather several hundred troops. The Amnish War depleted many of our forces in Waterdeep, and it's the middle of winter. Trying to find additional troops right now is difficult."

The young guardsman leaned back in his wooden chair and tilted his head. "A ten-day sir? Do you think we will have that long before the orcs move to attack Red Larch?"

"No, if what the druid woman says is true, I'm fairly certain the orcs will not wait ten days before they take action. I wouldn't have figured so many orc clans would band together either, but they must be aware that their presence would not go unnoticed for long. I must go and find another villager that can rush this report to Sir Bromler. Then we will have a funeral service for Rork. I wish we had time to move his body back to Waterdeep and to hold a service for his family, but the situation will not allow it. When this is over we'll transport his ashes back to his loved ones."

The soldier nodded his head. "I'm sure his family will understand, given the situation. Sir, can I ask you something about death and this place you mentioned, the 'Fugue Plane'?"

The sergeant smiled at his curiosity. "Of course you may ask, what do you wish to know about it?"

"Well, sir. I grew up in a poor area of the dock wards and never really heard about the afterlife and that kind of stuff. My folks just told me we are returned to earth and crumble to dust. They don't believe that people have souls."

Sir Dural sighed. "That is unfortunate, Wylan. When someone dies their soul leaves the body and travels to the Fugue Plane. It is said to be a lifeless, grey bland wasteland and all souls are drawn to it. In the middle of it lies the City of Judgment. As the souls walk through the Fugue plane, those who are faithful to their deity are retrieved by their divine agents and brought to the plane of the God's to whom they paid tribute."

The guardsman's face turned a little pale and began to fidget in his chair. "What happens to those who do not believe in gods?"

The servant of Tyr shook his head, and exhaled softly. "Well, those souls will enter the City of Judgment where it said the Faithless, those who do not believe in gods, and the False, those who betrayed their gods or committed heinous crimes are judged. The walls of the city are paved with souls that did not pass judgment, where they are trapped for all eternity."

The soldier gulped loudly and he just sat there blinking for a few moments, until the door opened from outside. The elf stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. He pulled the cowl from his head as he walked over to the knight's table. "Sir Dural, I heard you were looking for someone to deliver your message. I've asked Elyria to make the journey and carry your request to Waterdeep. I can bind the letter to her leg and she will fly there and return. It will be much faster than having someone ride there in the snow."

"She'll be able to carry it all the way there. How will she know where to take it?"

"I will have her deliver your report to a close friend. She knows how to find his home in the city. I have written my own quick note asking him to bring it to Sir Bromler with all urgency."

The paladin tapped a finger on his chin as he contemplated. "I was hoping your animal companion would help us scout out the orc base. I am planning on organizing a rescue attempt in the morning and since we cannot use any defensive measures and we are facing a large force of skilled combatants, we need the advantage of knowing the enemy positions and movements.

The elf's face was placid as he responded. "I suspected that you would attempt an assault on the orc fort. Jaceira has an owl companion that she can communicate with as I do. I can ask her if she is willing to have her friend scout from the skies for us."

"Do you agree with the idea of a rescue attempt? I know that the odds are against us but with your arcane abilities and Keltar's stealth, I think we will be able to at least hold them off long enough to free the prisoners and give them time to escape. If Jaceira and Arden aid us then we might be able to route the invaders and destroy the camp."

Einlan folded his arms in the long sleeves of his green robes. "Yes, I agree. We may be able to gather evidence that will lead us to discover this mysterious group of humans that are aiding them."

Dural raised his eyebrows as an idea came to him. "Gansen mentioned to me that the orc chieftain understood common language. If that is true we can attempt to capture him alive and question him about who is pulling their strings." The holy warrior stood up from his chair and handed the parchment to the wizard. "Please have Elyria bring this right away to Waterdeep, and thank her again."

Einlan removed his own parchment with a personal note he wrote and placed it and Dural's report on top of a leather covering. He rolled the bundle up so that the protective leather was on the outside and tied it off with a sturdy string of yarn. He opened the window shudder, letting in a cold breeze into the cottage, causing the fire in the hearth to crackle and flare. The wizard whistled loudly and a few moments later a blue-grey sparrow hawk emerged from the darkness and landed on the window sill. The elf spoke with the bird and it chirped calmly in response. He tied the end of the string attached to the leather covering onto Elyria's leg. He spoke a few more words and the creature took flight with the parchment in tow. "It will take her many hours, but she will push through the night to get there quickly."

The paladin took a wool cloak from the peg next to the door and glanced at the elf as he clasped it on. "That is excellent, thank you. Are you coming to the funeral service for Rork?"

"Yes, of course. It would be my honor to attend."

* * *

The body of the fallen soldier lay on an oil-soaked wooden platform several feet above the snowy ground. Large branches were set upright against the platform forming a sparse fence around it. The corpse was visible between the gaps of the branches in the flickering orange light of the torches burning on posts surrounding it. The night sky had cleared for the first time in several days, allowing the area to be bathed in the pale light of the moon and stars. People from the village stood in line and each came up and laid some personal affects on the corpse, a common offering customary for the human civilizations in the Western Heartlands. There were strips of cloth, scarves, baskets, wool hats, and other small personal items that began to cover Rork's torso and legs. Just about the entire town had attended the service, as did the entire group sent from Waterdeep. Even the druid and her woodland companion attended the gathering, standing with Keltar and Einlan as they watched the procession file through to lay items on the fallen soldier.

Once the last villager dropped off his personal offering and walked back to the gathered crowd, the priestess moved to the center in front of the funeral pyre. She was dressed in an extravagant, deep blue dress with fine silver embroidery along the edges, several stars and a large crescent moon adorned the front and back. The contours of the fitted dress displayed the shapely curve of her slim body and the long, wide sleeves flowed around her arms like the wings of an angel. Her chestnut colored hair was elegantly wrapped in a string of grey pearls. Sir Dural had a hard time believing that just two hours ago this woman was smashing orcs with a deadly mace. He looked over to Keltar, who stared at the priestess almost unblinking for several minutes and ignored the conversation between the elf and the druid beside him.

Cera raised her slender arms in the air, holding her hands up to get everyone's attention. "Ladies and Gentleman, Thank you all for joining us in honoring this hero who died to protect the inhabitants of this town. It is a sad day and we mourn the loss of this young man, but we also celebrate his life and honor his memory by coming together to pay tribute to him. His fellow soldiers will miss him greatly. They have told me that Rork had a great sense of humor and often a sincere smile on his face. He appreciated life and joined the guard to protect others. He died fulfilling that virtuous goal. He may have experienced some degree of fear when the orcs attacked this town, but he knew his duty and he faced the threat without hesitation, bravely laying down his life so that others would live free of the oppression of these war-like humanoids that have caused so much grief and suffering. He is a hero not only to the people of Stalford, but to all people of the land who can gain comfort and hope knowing that soldiers like Rork serve to help protect them from all those who would prey on innocent men, women and children." Cera walked over and grabbed a torch from the nearby stand and held it up. "May the gods that protect and nurture us, guide his soul to live with them through all eternity and honor him as he honored those in this life. We commit his body to ashes, but his spirit shall rise forth and begin its journey in the afterlife." She lit the oil drenched wooden platform and it began to brighten the night sky as the congregation watched the flames engulf the young man in a fiery blaze. Several minutes later the priestess turned once again to the crowd. "His soul has risen, and the gods have accepted him. Go home now and do not mourn for long, but celebrate the life and freedom his sacrifice has given you."

There was not a dry eye among the women of town, including Hadenna who was the first to come up and hug the Selunite woman for her wonderful tribute to Rork. Most of the town came up to thank Cera and gave a solemn bow and prayers to the ashes of the soldier that died for them.

Sir Dural came up after most of the townsfolk finished paying their respects, and went down to one knee, bowed and said a solemn prayer for Rork's soul. He then rose up and went over to Cera. "You did a wonderful job and I greatly appreciate the kind words you said on his behalf. I only wish his family was here to see your lovely tribute. Unfortunately we must gather together now and prepare, we are going to try and rescue the captives in the morning and destroy the orc base."

Cera cocked her head at an angle as she replied, "I thought that you were going to wait for reinforcements."

"I was, but new information has come to light that has convinced me that we must act immediately. The orc fort that's being built is big enough for over a hundred troops. This means that more orcs are likely to move into it and if we don't destroy it now, they may complete the fortification and it will be very difficult and cost many lives to take it out later."

The Selunite simply nodded, "I understand. Keltar introduced me to Jaceira and Arden, with their help I think we stand a good chance at success. We were fortunate to have lost only one soldier in this last attack, your men did a fine job and I think it had a lot to do with your own courage and leadership."

The paladin could only manage a half-hearted smile at the compliment as he watched the glowing embers housing another body lost under his command. "I only hope after this loss sinks in that they will not falter in the battle to come. We are meeting in Holtin's house to start on our battle plan for tomorrow. Jaceira and Arden have agreed to aid us in the attack."

"I will help as well," stated a voice from behind the knight. He turned around to see the broad shouldered farm boy standing there, pushing his wavy brown hair around his ear.

"Klenn, I'm sorry but I need you to stay here and help defend the town while we travel to the orc camp. The town will be at risk while we are away, and you can help lead the other villagers in defending it."

The young man had the look of defiance as he folded his muscled arms across his wide chest. "We have people that can shoot bows in defense of town if there is an attack. The others will take refuge and follow your defensive plan. I've done all you've asked of me, sir. I trained long and hard and I want to help free my friends from their captivity. You are short a soldier. The more men you have the better chance at winning the battle. You need my help. The prisoners will recognize me and I can help lead them away to safety, easier than any of your men."

"I would have to ask your father if he would allow it."

"With all do respect, sir. I am of the age that I can take a wife, bear a child and provide for my family. I think that gives me the right to make my own decision about my life and the risks I can take."

The sergeant's scrutinizing gaze met that of the young villager, and he saw confidence and determination. "If you are under my command, then this will be the last time you argue with me. Understood?"

The young farmer stood straight up, puffed his chest out and gave a salute. "Yes, sir," he stated with the exuberance of a new recruit.

"Good, your first order is to find some villagers that you trust to relieve the soldiers of watch duty so they can get some needed rest before our assault tomorrow. Dismissed, soldier."


	20. Chapter 19

Dagger of Souls

*** Chapter 19 ***

Sir Dural pointed a finger on the map lying on the large wooden table and traced it across the road drawn from the west side of the village. "We will move down the main road out of Stalford until we get to here. We can move north, cross the stream and follow it to the gaming trail, and then follow it until we get close to the orc camp."

There were several lanterns all around the well lit common room of Holtin's cottage, the town's appointed leader who organized the trade agreements with Waterdeep and Red Larch for selling their livestock and crops. A large, rectangular maple wood table sat in the middle of the room, large enough for eight guests to sit comfortably in well crafted, high-backed wooden chairs. The sandstone hearth that sat on one side of the room provided a warming blaze that made the room cozy. Fine woven, maroon drapes surrounded several paintings of the quaint hamlet and gave the chamber a fashionable touch.

The paladin paused and eyed the druid sitting across table. "Jaceira, we will need you to get details of the camp with your owl. Einlan said that you agreed to have him survey the enemy's area for us. Is that correct?"

The part elf woman nodded. "Yes, we will get the information on the camp's location and their warriors' positions in the area."

Keltar leaned forward and surveyed the map carefully. "Once we get close, I'll sneak into there and free the prisoners."

The elf wizard nodded, "I will follow Keltar close to the camp and together with Arden and Jaceira we can provide reconnaissance as he tries to cut the captive's bindings loose. If they sound the alarm, we can signal the rest of the group to start the assault and provide support to Keltar to get the prisoners to safety."

The paladin spoke up again. "Once we get the signal, I'll direct Klenn and two other soldiers to move in to support the messenger. Cera and I, along with the remaining guardsmen will assault the orc guards in the middle of the camp. According to Gansen, there will be only a few guards watching the prisoners as they perform their labor. Most of the other guards will be under this covering here in the center of camp. The orc chieftain and two of his elite guards will be around the tent, there, in the northeast section of their camp. We will try to attack the leader's group last. Make it a priority to stop any of the orcs that go after the captives. Our second priority is to take the orc leader alive so that we can question him."

Cera inspected the map carefully. She still had on her elegant dress and her hair styled with the pearl strings securing it, making her seem out of place for a battle planning session. "We need to have a contingency plan. By the time we reach the camp they will know that something is amiss with their raiding party. They will probably change their plans if they believe someone might come for them."

The rogue warrior nodded. "Cera is right. They will most likely change from their normal guard positions and be more on the defensive. Catching them by surprise may prove difficult. With their tendency for strong arm tactics, I doubt they will set up any traps for us. But they could have most of the guards surrounding the prisoners, especially if they realized that Gansen had escaped."

The sergeant sighed as he looked to the rogue warrior and priestess. "That is a real possibility. If in fact they choose to move most of the guards to surround the prisoners then we will have trouble getting them out safely. They will have a good chance to kill some of the captives before we can get them away from the camp. It will also prevent us from using ranged attacks to reduce their numbers for fear of hitting the villagers. I think it best we stick with the current plan. If there are more orcs around the prisoners then we will still try and get as close as we can and free them and then we'll use all of our group and the soldiers to try and defend them as they escape."

The wizard tapped his long, slender finger on the table and then held it up. "I can create a distraction that will occupy them so that Keltar, and whoever else, can get in close and free them. It will give us a better chance to extract the prisoners safely."

The paladin had no doubt that the elf's arcane powers would get their rapt attention. "A diversion would be perfect for any of these scenarios. We will have to get further details as we get close to the camp and can better evaluate the situation. We don't know what we are going to find so we could plan contingencies all night and still not cover every possibility. We should all get a good night's sleep. Make your preparations and we will meet outside my quarters at first light."

* * *

Sergeant Dural came to a halt in the snow as he scrutinized the map held in his armored gauntlet. "Keltar, Einlan. Hold on." He glanced at the iced-over brook to his left, and then scanned the woods to his right. "The hunting trail should be near this spot, heading north. It will be difficult to find, so I need you both to make a careful search." The messenger and elf stopped their progress along the bank and started to analyze the area to find the trail. They were travelling in a single file line along the bank of a small brook that had frozen over. Einlan and Keltar were scouting out slightly ahead of the group. The paladin turned to face the part elf woman, just behind Cera. "Jaceira, we need get the initial scouting report from your owl. Whatever information Irimìn could give us would be very helpful."

"I am afraid the he cannot give us enough detailed information. I will find out their positioning when we get a little closer," the part elf woman stated.

The holy warrior blinked a few times, wondering if he heard her correctly. "What? I thought we agreed to have the owl find out the orc's positions."

Jaceira leaned on the long oak branch she carried as she gazed at the sergeant. "Actually, I agreed that 'we' would get the information."

"But…" The woman ran off into the woods before Dural could get a word in, with Arden following right behind her. He shook his head and sighed as he turned to Cera. "Druids! Do you know what in Tyr's good eye she meant by that?"

The priestess shrugged. "Not really. But I'll just trust her word that she will get the details about the enemy camp."

"I hope you're right." The sergeant turned to Klenn and the other soldiers. "It looks like we are going to take a short break here. Go ahead and get some food, this should be the last time we stop before we reach the orc camp."

The soldiers broke out bits of dried salted meats and various nuts to eat, and drank from their water skins. Klenn set down the large sack full of items he was carrying and walked over to the middle of the brook. He stomped his boot and broke through the ice layer covering the water. He then submerged his water skin in the hole he created and let it fill up. "The water here is good to drink. You can refill your skins." The other soldiers followed his lead and broke their own holes in the ice and replenished their water. The farm boy had felt inferior to the other soldiers until they got out into the wilds. Out here the city born soldiers felt like novices and out of place.

Keltar and Einlan returned shortly after all the soldiers topped off their water containers. "I believe the druid has found the hunting trail," the messenger reported to Dural.

"Jaceira and Arden are very skilled trackers," the elf noted. "Even I had a hard time recognizing the trail, and I've spent over two dozen years in the woods."

The sergeant picked up his metal shield, placed his arm in the leather strap and motioned back to his men. "We are moving out now."

The group gathered their packs up and followed Keltar. They caught up with Jaceira and Arden after fifty paces or so. The two woodland people began to walk off once they saw the group was close. Dural shouted out to stop them. "Wait! We're not sure how far it is yet."

The part elf woman just waved him off. "It's alright. We will soon." Before the paladin could respond the woman bounded off again.

The holy warrior shook his helmed head and looked at Cera. "And I thought you were stubborn."

The priestess just rolled her eyes as she moved ahead. The sergeant signaled to the soldiers to move and then hurried to catch up with the Selunite. Several minutes later the grey-white owl swooped down and landed on Jaceira's arm and hooted and whistled to her. She stopped and turned back toward the paladin. "They are less than two miles from our position. Apparently there is a lot of activity at the camp. When we are within a mile of the base, I will get more details." The part elf took off again before he could ask her anything further.

Sir Dural let out a frustrated groan as he marched at a quick pace to keep up with the druid and ranger. After a long hike they finally stopped at a small clearing. The sergeant stalked up to the part elf woman and tossed his shield to the snow covered ground. His voice revealed the agitation at the woman's actions. "Now listen here. I would like us to discuss these things before you just go running off. I wanted to get more details before we moved this close to the encampment, and don't walk so fast! We can't keep up that pace with armor on."

The druid seemed unfazed by the holy warrior's ire. She explained nonchalantly, "I thought it best to wait until we were close enough that the details I provide would not change. If we'd done it back by the stream, their positions could have changed completely. Besides I can only do this once, well I can do it a second time but not until we start the assault."

"Do what once or twice?" Dural asked, thoroughly confused.

"This," she responded as she crossed her right arm holding the oak branch across her chest and then her left arm across the other arm. She tilted her head back and looked up to the sky, concentrating hard. Suddenly, the woman's body began to shrink in size and sprout feathers. After a few seconds she and her equipment had transformed into a snowy owl, much like her pet companion. She flapped her new wings and flew out above the trees heading in the direction of the encampment. Her owl companion launched itself from a nearby tree and followed the druid in her animal form.

The paladin stared in awe of the transformation and watched as the woman took off. He folded arms across his chest and turned his gaze to Arden. "You two are not much for communication," he stated in irritation. "… at least not with people," the knight muttered under his breath.

The ranger glanced at him briefly, blinked a few times and then turned his attention back to the wilderness in the direction of the orcs.

The elf wizard stepped over closer to Sir Dural so that he didn't have to raise his voice. "Druids and rangers are not used to dealing with such a large group of people. They are mostly solitary and only join together when there is a problem that they require help to deal with."

The paladin seemed to relax a bit at the explanation. "I suppose that makes sense. I still would have liked to know what she was planning beforehand." He turned to the soldiers who were standing in a group behind him. "Men, get out your crossbows and get them ready in case a scout makes their way out this far. Spread out and find some cover, and keep a sharp eye out." The soldiers all saluted with a fist across their chest and moved into positions.

After several minutes two grey-white owls descended into the clearing where the group had stopped. Einlan, Keltar, Cera and Sir Dural all gathered around the two creatures. One of the owls began to sprout up. Feathers became pinkish and turned to flesh. Wings grew into arms and talons became legs and after a few seconds Jaceira stood in the place where the snowy owl was. The actual owl flew up and landed on her shoulder, and began to nestle himself in her long, dark brown hair.

Sir Dural watched the spectacle with fascination and then approached the druid once she regained her humanoid form again. He removed the map from his backpack, unfurled it and placed it on a wide rock nearby. "What did you find out about their camp? Please, show us where the guards and the prisoners are exactly on this map."

The part elf woman knelt down and studied the scribbled representation, as the others circled around to see the layout. "Well, this is a very crude map. The scale of the whole map is off and the distances between the structures are farther than how it is drawn here."

The sergeant frowned and narrowed his eyebrows as he glowered at the woman. "I don't think Gansen had time between slavery and occasional beatings to take proper measurements of the camp. We don't have time to get a better drawing, just give us general positions of everyone."

The druid placed her slender, light-bronze hands on her narrow hips. "I was about to do that, if you would have allowed me to finish," she stated indignantly. "The orc guards are actively helping to build the second wall on the south side of camp. The first wall on the west is complete. There are two orcs outside the chieftain's tent. Two more orcs are chopping trees just north of the camp. Three other warriors are sitting around the fire under the tarp in the middle of camp, they are guarding a group of three humans bound together that are being forced to retrieve the felled trees and drag them back to camp. I counted seven orcs working with the prisoners to bind up sections of lumber together at the south wall. Four of them are working on binding their own section while the other three are monitoring two groups of humans completing the other section. There was no sign of any guards outside of camp guarding or patrolling the area, and I could not see the chieftain. He may have been in his tent on the northeast section of camp, I could not see into it to locate him." She pointed to the owl on her shoulder. "I had Irimìn circle the camp several times to see if there were any other guards or people in the area and he found none either."

Dural mulled over the intelligence the druid provided them. "Thank you for this detailed report, Jaceira. Though it is disturbing that the prisoners are split up because will make the rescue attempt even more difficult. I do find it a bit surprising that they have no patrols going out."

Keltar studied the map carefully before he commented. "It's not that surprising seeing that they have a significantly smaller force. They probably do not believe we would be able to mount a rescue attempt so quickly after the last attack. I doubt they thought we would have won the battle with so few casualties. They might have believed they had several days before we could get enough of a group together to seek out their camp."

The holy warrior nodded. "That may be true, or they may also being using all of their men to finish this fort quickly. When Gansen was held here, only the villagers were doing the work other than chopping down the trees. It appears now they have many of the orcs helping out."

"It could be a combination of both reasons," added the priestess. "Regardless, we need to adjust our plan to what we know for sure."

Keltar bent down low and pointed to the section north of the camp. "Arden and I can wait until the two orcs come out and chop down the next tree and then dispatch them quickly. We can use the noise of the falling tree to mask the sound of our attack. When the prisoners come to retrieve the tree, we can kill the three guards and free the townsfolk."

Dural flashed the messenger a questioning look. "It's enough of a risk for you to take out two armed orcs without anyone noticing. But taking out three more doesn't seem possible without alerting the whole camp, especially with several prisoners in their midst."

Einlan gazed at Keltar and the paladin. "I can provide my diversion when they get to the fallen tree. This should send the whole camp into chaos. They would hardly notice a fight on the outskirts of camp. Just be sure that none of you look directly at the fire in the middle of camp or you will be blinded for a few minutes."

The holy warrior looked around to make sure everyone heard the wizard's warning and continued. "Now all we have to do is figure out how to set free two groups of prisoners surrounded by seven armed orcs, without killing any of the villagers in the process. Keltar and Arden will be at the opposite side of camp, so the rest of us will have to engage them."

Jaceira pointed to the place on the map where the two groups of prisoners were located. "Two guards are holding the rope of each of the groups of prisoners. During the diversion, I should be able to kill one of the orcs holding one group and set them free."

The elf wizard smiled to the druid and added. "I can blast the second orc guard to allow the final group of prisoners to escape. I would recommend that Klenn move in as soon as he sees me attack and direct the captives to safety. They should recognize him and be less apt to panic."

Sir Dural nodded, pleased with the assault plan taking shape. "I will charge in with Klenn and meet any of the orcs that pursue them. I will have the rest of the soldiers split to both flanks and fire bolts at any of the orcs that try to stop the prisoners. Keltar, Arden, don't engage the chieftain and his elite guards directly. They will be closest to your position and may come after both of you. Attack from a distance, but stay away from them as much as possible and try to lead them away from camp until we finish off the main guards and can assist."

Keltar frowned at the paladin's suggestion. "I thought we discussed that I can take my own risks." He looked to Cera, hoping she would support his statement.

The Moonmaiden priestess looked back at the messenger sheepishly. "I'm afraid that I agree with Sir Dural on this one. The chieftain and his personal guard against two of you would be extremely dangerous, especially when you are so far separated from us. You're right it is your choice, but I'm begging you not to try and take them on alone."

The black leather clad man was astonished at her reversal of positions, and stood and blinked at her for a few seconds. He started to say something, but just let out a small grunt. "Fine, we'll keep our distance as best we can and try to lead them away."

The paladin turned to face the soft spoken ranger. "Is this plan alright with you, Arden?"

The woodland warrior glanced at the others and then gave an affirmative nod. The holy warrior noted his response. "Unless anyone else has any other ideas, let us begin. May justice be with us all."


	21. Chapter 20

Dagger of Souls

*** Chapter 20 ***

The two large orcs took turns swinging their large curved axes at the tall, leafless Heartland elm tree. They had just about chopped through the nearly two and a half foot thick trunk base as one of them stopped to check their progress. The pale green humanoid bent low to inspect the large notch and mumbled a few guttural sounds to communicate with the other warrior. They setup again on opposite sides and continued to strike at the widening rift in the tree until they heard several loud cracks as the weight of the tree lumbered against the small amount of wood left to support where it was cut. The snaps soon turned to a great whoosh sounds as the tree gave way to gravity and began to fall back toward camp.

The orc was quite astonished to see in the midst of the falling timber, a jade arrow head burst through the front side of his rib cage, and another appeared just under his collar bone. Its limited brain had trouble processing that this was an attack and not something that fell from the elm. Before he realized what had happened, the world around him faded away.

The second orc grinned with satisfaction at the destruction of the majestic object that had grown here for over a hundred years, not even noticing the fate that befell his comrade. Keltar sunk his steel dagger deep into the humanoids back, severing its spinal cord. The damaged nerves caused it to drop straight down like its limbs were made of rubber. At the same time the orc fell, the large elm tree crashed to the ground sending bits of snow, dirt, and twigs flinging outward from the upper section of its branches.

The rogue warrior dragged the humanoid's heavy carcass to a nearby bush at the base of an evergreen pine tree, as the cloud of debris began to settle. The ranger hurried in and grabbed his victim and added its limp body to the new pile, and joined the messenger in seeking cover there. The rogue warrior watched the camp intently to see if anyone had noticed their deadly actions. Judging from the leisurely stroll of the one guard following behind the villagers, they had no idea anything had happened to their fellow orc soldiers.

On the other side of the encampment, Arlin hardly paid any attention to the crashing sound. It was an all too common occurrence for the slaves to take much notice. It just meant more work would continue to come. He was upbeat though as he realized the raid never returned from Stalford. He wasn't completely sure, but it felt as if the gods had answered their prayers and spared the town. He was surprised, though, to see that a small sparrow had landed on the rope between him and the orc guard at the same time the tree came crashing down. The bird shook its head up and down like it was nodding as it looked him in the eye. The orc guard holding the rope was also a bit surprised by the brazen sparrow, but before he could formulate a proper response the sky suddenly lit up bright orange. The campfire at the center flared up tenfold and shot sparks and flaming cinders that whistled and screamed as they flew twenty paces in every direction. The two orcs at the center of camp let out low guttural screams as the held their eyes and stumbled around.

Arlin was incredulous at the new turn of events, but even more flabbergasted when he saw the sparrow become a slender woman with short elven ears. She cocked back a large, gnarled cudgel-like object with both hands and whacked it across the unsuspecting orc guard's ear. The solid oak weapon knocked the orc from its feet, unconscious before it hit the cold ground. Dark blood pooled around the orc as three golden, shimmering orbs shot past them and struck the orc guard holding the rope of the other group of captives. It let out a throaty moan as it collapsed to the snow.

Jaceira pointed to the tree line west of their position, where Klenn and Sir Dural were running toward them. She yelled out to the villagers. "You are all free. We are here to rescue you. Go that way toward Klenn, quickly."

The startled villagers were stunned between the fireworks going off and the strange woman who suddenly appeared in their midst.

Klenn yelled out and waved his large hands in the air. "This way! It's me Klenn from our village. You have to move this way so we can protect you. Now!"

Two orc guards stood in the escape path of the townsfolk and they looked around at the chaos in the camp and back to the two humans charging toward them, trying to decide who to deal with first. Orcs behind them shouted out to get their attention and they turned to try and stop the villagers. It was a short lived attempt as a large bolt of blue lightning sizzled through both of them. The two guards convulsed as the burning energy passed through them causing them to crumple to the snow covered ground. The smell of burnt hide, cloth and skin permeated the air as their charred remains smoldered.

The three guards working on the section of wall adjacent to the prisoner came out of their stupor and began to sprint to cut off the escaping prisoners. The druid met the lead warrior and swung her oak weapon at the orc's knee, but the warrior was able to deflect the blow with the handle of his axe weapon. Fortunately the low strike caused the orc to bend down to deflect it and that threw him off balance. The guard stumbled and had to come to a halt, nearly doing a split to keep from tumbling over.

Wylan and another guardsman had their crossbows ready, but the part elf woman was in the midst of the orc warriors. "Hold your fire, Horlin, the druid is too close." He held his hand up to signal the Bandon and the other two soldiers to cease firing as well. He held two fingers over his eye and then circled his finger around to let them know to keep an eye out for the other orcs in the area.

The two other orc guards were met head on by Klenn and Dural just before they reached the fleeing captives. The sound of clashing metal reverberated loudly across the camp as they collided. The paladin managed to deflect the wild blow of the one orc nearest him and kick at the beast's shin as it ran past. The blow combined with its momentum caused the orc to trip and slide head first several paces forward, making a wide groove in the white snow. Sir Dural leapt forward toward the orc warrior as it tried to get up. The knight kept his broad sword low and to his left side and swung his blade upward at the creatures head. The orc got his weapon up to block it with the handle of his axe. The paladin's strike was enough to knock the orc back, giving him time to shift his weight and reverse the blade's momentum, coming back to a quick downward, diagonal strike. The orc balancing precariously on its knees could not recover from the first blow to defend the next. The gleaming blade sliced down unopposed cutting green flesh from its cheek to its chin, and cracking its jaw bone cleanly in two pieces.

Klenn was able to deflect the crushing blow of the orc warrior with the haft of his own large axe, but the force of the charge spun him around and made him stumble forward. The farm boy spread his feet wide and bent his knees to regain his balance as the sergeant taught him and that action kept him on his feet. He was ready and in a proper defensive stance as the orc came at him again. It was smiling, revealing all its horrid, yellow-stained teeth to him. He felt nauseous as he recognized the 'x' shaped scar across its left cheek. It was the same orc that attacked and nearly killed him back in town. The creature was grinning eagerly because it expected to finish him this time. The words of the Tyrran knight's training rang in his mind, 'turn your fear to anger, and channel it to your advantage.' As the humanoid closed in on him he imagined the humiliation of defeat, and remembered the helplessness as he had watched many of his fellow townsfolk being taken or killed. The anger welled up inside of him as the orc came in swinging mid-level toward his chest. Klenn waited until the last moment before he brought up his axe and met its haft with his own. He angled his axe handle upward causing the warrior's momentum to carry the axe head high over him. He used the momentum of the attack to help him spin around. Combined with the rage he felt at the vile marauders, he was able to bring the axe around in a wide arc with immense power. The orc could not bring its weapon back down in time to stop it and the curved axe head slammed into its gut knocking the beast off its large feet. It came crashing down and peered up at the young human in shock as its entrails flowed out from the massive wound riding on a stream of its brackish colored blood.

Cera began a divine chant as she locked her gaze on the large orc squaring off against the tiny part elf woman. The star shaped scar above her eye glowed dimly as she unleashed the power of the Moonmaiden. The orc raised its axe to block a blow from Jaceira, who was swinging an overhand strike toward its head. Before his axe was up high enough to stop the attack, all its muscles became rigid and it's arms came to an immediate halt. The beast could only watch helplessly with its beady black eyes as the solid wood cracked the top of its wide, green skull.

Wylan and the other soldiers scanned the rest of the battlefield to see what was happening. Two of the elite guards were chasing Keltar and Arden to the north, but a mountain of an orc was moving quickly across the camp toward the others. Its greasy black and grey mane was braided with red and green dyed beads and had large earrings with black stones hanging from its large ears. It held a giant axe with twin, curved axe blades and a sharpened spike on top. He deduced that this must be the clan chieftain, and gave the signal to fire. A cacophony of thumping sounds erupted as five steel bolts flew toward the towering orc. One or two seem to hit the huge humanoid, but somehow did not even leave a scratch.

Klenn cut the bindings holding the groups of prisoners together. "It is good to see you all alive. We don't have time to talk, you are still in danger." The large farm boy handed them a large cloth sack. "Take these supplies. There is food and clothing for all of you. Head south until you get to a small frozen stream and wait for us there. If we are not back in one hour, keep heading south until you find the road. Take it east to Stalford. Now go, I have to help the other soldiers." The townsfolk had many questions but the young man ran off to join the others. Seeing the fierce battle was all they needed to know, they headed south.

Cera watched as the chieftain moved toward her allies. She called upon the power of her goddess once more, summoning the divine energies granted to her. She held out the mace contain the holy symbol of a crescent moon and star and pointed it at the massive orc. Shards of silver lightning erupted all around the beast, but it moved through the blinding display unfazed and turned toward the three guardsmen reloading their crossbows. Only two were able to get a shot off in time, and both scored direct hits but both steel bolts just bounced off of the orc leader as if it was made of stone. Wylan let out a curse as the orc moved in too close to the other soldiers for him to take another shot.

The gigantic orc slammed the spiked end of his weapon into Tagrus' upper torso. The soldier moved just enough to keep it from puncturing his lung, but it still penetrated just above his pectoral muscle. He fell to the ground clutching at the deep wound, while Tu'Grol spun around to the left, bringing the large, twin-bladed axe around in a backhanded swing at Skalnor. The short, pale guardsmen made a feeble attempt with shaky hands to deflect the attack, which barely slowed down the large axe blade as it sunk into his rib cage.

Everyone began to sprint toward the mountain-like orc chieftain from multiple directions as two of the guardsmen fell to the ground, leaving Bandon face to face with the brutal leader. Sir Dural saw Wylan and Horlin draw swords and move in and he shouted to them as he ran to help the guardsman. "No. Both of you and Klenn go after the orcs in the middle of camp before they regain their sight. That's an order!"

Cera noticed Jaceira raising her gnarled oak staff as she ran passed and could hear the chant of some ancient Druidic language, while Einlan sent three more orbs of shimmering, golden magic that moved around the guardsmen and struck the massive orc. The orc chieftain growled at the impact, but it did little to slow him down. Bandon swung his short sword at the creature's trunk-like leg, but it swatted the attack away like it would a pesky fly. The orc maneuvered himself past the soldier, keeping the charging paladin in front of him. He turned to swing his axe but the wooden handle of his weapon began to warp and bend into a 'u' shape, causing him to swing wildly over guardsman's pot helm.

Sir Dural came barreling in and swung viciously at the orc leader, hoping to force the large orc back and away so that the priestess could get to the two fallen troops. Tu'Grol leapt backward to avoid the wide blade, as he tried to figure out how to hold the bent handle of his axe. The knight kept up the pressure with feigned jabs and quick attacks, but the orc was able to block or avoid them.

Bandon fell back and moved over to Skalnor, who lay writhing in the white snow peppered with blotches of deep red. He tried to cover the huge gash in the man's ribs with a torn piece of cloth he carried in his belt pouch. The cloth was soaked within seconds with the warm, crimson blood. "Don't give up Skal, the healer's on her way here. Hold on!"

The elf wizard thumbed through his pouch and grabbed a small token of an archery target and railed out command words in ancient Tel'Quessir language, "_Ta'adimo Inderes Quendìl_." He felt the magic weave flow through him and engulf the token which transformed into glittering dust that coalesced into his hands. He removed his bow and notched an arrow as he watched the deadly dance of weapons between the orc chieftain and the Tyrran knight. The magic allowed him to slow down the movements of his target, making them appear as if they were only a few feet away and in slow motion. He took careful aim at the pig-faced humanoid's thick neck and released the bow string. The arrow was on target and hit the creature's neck and then ricocheted off into the distance without even a scratch. "_A'mril Desaeryth_," Einlan cursed in elvish, realizing the bastard had some magical protection around him.

Jaceira finished another Druidic incantation and brought her fists together in front of her chest. A greenish shimmering animal-like form appeared and disappeared in front of her fists, as the part elf woman concentrated on the raging battle with the paladin. Suddenly a large black bear blinked into existence a few paces behind the orc leader.

The chieftain blocked another swift thrust attack from the holy warrior's bastard sword, then turned and slammed the back of his meaty green fist into Dural's face. The holy warrior felt the stinging pain in his gashed cheek and tasted warm blood mixed with sweat as it trickled into his mouth. Tu'Grol just barely heard the growl of the bear and turned just as the forest creature lunged at him. He somehow caught the large animal in the air with his free hand, but it lashed at him with sharp claws scoring a few deep cuts across his green face and neck. Remarkably the huge chieftain managed to keep his feet with six hundred pounds of bear on him. He pushed the beast with the bent haft of his axe and twisted his body sending the black bear rolling away from him. The paladin had recovered and was looking for an opportunity. He seized the advantage of the bear's distraction delivering a hard strike that cut through the orc leader's thick hide and leather armor just under its armpit.

The priestess arrived at Skalnor's side as he began to go into convulsions. She quickly chanted a prayer to the Moonmaiden as she held a medallion in her hand, "By the moon and stars, heal this man's wounds, bind them and restore him to health." The huge wound glowed brightly and mostly closed itself. The man sat up and was surprised to see he was still alive, as the woman moved over to the other injured soldier.

The black bear got up on its four feet and made another dash at the massive orc. The sergeant brought his bastard sword in a wide arc in the opposite direction to make sure the chieftain would not be able to position himself away from the animals charge. Tu'Grol blocked the attempt and turned to face the bear, but Dural pressed the attack pushing the block downward and slicing at the orc's leg just as the bear lunged at him. The animal rose up on its hind legs and raked at the flesh on the orc's upper arm and tried to clamp its jaw at the humanoid's wide face, but the orc elbowed the creature in the throat and then kicked at its hind leg's with his massive boot causing it to fall over. Bandon suddenly charged in with his long, thin military sword with a wild overhand swing which caused the large orc to hop back a few steps. It flashed a toothy grin at the inexperienced soldier who just got in the way of the bear that was rolling onto all fours preparing for another charge at the orc. The chieftain stepped up and reared back to cut down the guardsman when the handle slipped out of his meaty hand and flew half a dozen paces behind him. He stood befuddled as he examined the strange black slippery substance on his hands. The black bear brushed past Bandon and this time came in low and tackled the orc just above the knees, digging its claws into his massive thighs as its weight and several injuries to the chieftain's legs brought him down. The black furred animal and the green skinned humanoid rolled back and forth in the snow, a fury of claws and fists. Somehow the immense orc managed to get on the bear's back and twisted its head violently. The blacked furred animal vanished just as the paladin whacked Tu'Grol with the pommel of his sword in the back of his head.

Bandon was still enraged at the chieftain's vicious attacks and continued to come at orc leader, thrusting with his long sword. The large orc turned while still on his knees just enough to dodge the sharp blade and snatch the soldier's wrist, pulling himself up and forcing the guardsman face first into the snow at the same time. He easily pried the sword free of the man's hand as he stomped on his lower back with a heavy boot, causing Bandon to cry out in pain from his cracked ribs.

Sir Dural charged the chieftain again with a couple of wide, powerful swings at the mid-section to force him back a few of steps and off of the wounded man. Cera just finished administering her healing magic on Tagrus when Bandon was brought down. She and Jaceira grabbed the guardsman's arms and dragged him away from the skirmish to give the sergeant room to maneuver. Swords clashed and clanged loudly as they traded blows. Jaceira moved up to improve the odds and get the orc's attention. Dural grimaced and barked, "No, you'll get yourself killed druid. Stay back."

The woodland woman paid no heed to the paladin's command and swung her gnarled oak staff at the huge orc. Tu'Grol parried it effortlessly with his stolen longsword and responded with a wicked diagonal slash in return. Jaceira arched her back and then deftly pivoted to the side to avoid the long blade. The sergeant swung his own deadly sword scoring another gash across the huge orc's back.

The elf wizard frowned at the wasted spell to cause Tu'Grol to drop his weapon, only to have one of the guardsmen give another weapon back to the creature. He wracked his brain to figure out a way to bring down the massive humanoid that was being so difficult and snapped his fingers as an idea struck him. He pulled out a rolled up parchment with magical writing and read the ancient elvish command words, "_D'rathayne Pi'ilta Joruur, Kamelle Braziin Madala'ath_." The script began to glow in a golden hue and the entire parchment turned into a glowing thin cloud as Einlan pointed toward the chieftain. The magical vapor shot out swirling like a corkscrew across the battlefield and penetrated the orc leader.

Tu'Grol tried to swing his sword at the druid, but his muscular arm moved at half the normal speed and she easily moved out of the way. The holy knight seized the opportunity and made a quick slice across his tree-trunk like leg and then came in smashing his elbow into the chieftain's jaw. Jaceira walloped her oak staff across his temple causing the huge beast to stumble backwards. The green skinned humanoid's legs were moving slower than he expected which threw him off balance and onto his back. The paladin followed the huge orc and leapt on top of him driving his knee into its wide gut. Tu'Grol still refused to go down and tried to bring up his weapon, but the druid clubbed his hand with her oak staff causing him to drop the stolen long sword. The orc grabbed a hold of Jaceira's ankle with his other large hand and turned toward her to try and pull her down. The sergeant summoned the last of his energy and slammed his mailed fist into the orc leader's chin, finally knocking the enormous brute unconscious.

Sir Dural heaved a long sigh of relief and started to feel the pain of his wounds wracking his body. He looked around and was glad to see the two other soldiers were up and about and Cera was tending to Bandon. He heard crashing sounds as the two huge elite orc guards broke through the underbrush just north of their position. "Tyr's grace," the holy warrior croaked as he tried to get back to his feet.


	22. Chapter 21

Dagger of Souls

*** Chapter 21 ***

Sir Dural looked around to make a quick assessment. He was in no shape to take on two of their elite guards on his own and wondered where Arden and Keltar went or if they'd been killed already. Einlan moved up and started to get a rope out to bind the hands of the mountainous chieftain. Cera just finished stabilizing Bandon and was grabbing her shield, and the two other guards were hastily trying to load bolts into their crossbows, but they wouldn't have them ready before the green-skinned warriors reached them. The short, thin druid was starting to chant something, and he could only hope it would be effective against the two warriors, as he moved forward to face their charge. He was panting from the exertion, in pain from head to toe and his sword felt like it weighed more than Mount Waterdeep. But he had no choice because he knew these two warriors could tear through the rest of the group in close quarters. He hoped to at least wound one enough so that the others could defeat them and complete the mission to destroy the camp. He admonished himself for the negative thoughts and then silently pleaded for the God of Justice's favor.

Keltar and Arden burst through the underbrush not far behind the orcs. Arden stopped after entering the clearing and fired two arrows in quick succession that struck one of the orcs causing it to slam face first into the snow. The paladin realized that the orcs weren't charging but were being chased when he saw three more similar arrows sticking out of the back of the orc that fell.

Jaceira tossed a pinch of melted snow out as she finished her druidic incantation which began to sparkle with white lights as it slid out in front of the orc and expanded into a large sphere, twenty feet in diameter. It quickly turned into an icy snowstorm, engulfing the creature with flurries of heavy sleet. The storm raged so much that you could not even see the elite guard within it.

Klenn, Wylan and Horlin appeared from around the unfinished section of wall to the right flank of the sphere of sleet. The sergeant waved to get their attention. "The Elite orc guard is in there. Prepare to fire at him when he emerges." The group had the sphere of intense winter weather surrounded on three sides, as Skal and Tagrus got their weapons loaded and ready. Klenn moved over close to Sir Dural, keeping a small axe at the ready.

The orc guard stumbled out of the sphere. Icicles hung down from his greasy black hair and fur tunic and he was completely disoriented. He fixed his gaze on the unconscious form of the massive orc leader and charged toward the holy knight. Four of the guardsmen opened fire, three of the bolts found their mark impacting the large elite guard. It struggled to maintain balanced but continued to move toward his fallen chieftain. Klenn took careful aim and threw his axe which spun end over end as it swooshed through the air. The sharpened axe blade struck the orc dead in the center of his chest at the sternum. The large humanoid twisted backward and made a feeble attempt to pull the at the embedded weapon as his slid on his knees forward while his torso bent backward. The most he could do was gently run his large fingers across the axe head as his strength and life waned from him.

The knight returned his wide blade to its leather sheath and fell to his knees from the exhaustion. "Nice toss soldier! Good job to all of you."

The storm sphere faded away and Keltar and Arden moved through it to join the group. The messenger checked both orcs to make sure they were dead. He looked around at the orc bodies strewn about the bloody, churned up snow covered battlefield. "It appears I missed out on most of the fun while playing hide and seek with these two."

The priestess frowned at the rogue warrior as she took the shield straps off of her arm. "If you believe nearly losing the life of three or four of our companions… fun."

Keltar rolled his eyes. "No, but watching the life drain from the cold, black eyes of these godless murderers is satisfying."

The elf wizard looked up at the comment, after securely binding the orc leader. "Actually calling them godless is not quite accurate. Many orc tribes worship several bestial Gods and have devoted shamans that perform divine magic. Thankfully this tribe did not have one of those shamans to contend with or this assault might have been a much more difficult task. It took nearly all of my magic to defeat them as it was."

The messenger stared back at the wizard with his arms folded across his chest. "Well thanks for ruining the moment of satisfaction I had, and making our victory here seem less than heroic."

Einlan raised his slanted eyebrows at Keltar's unexpected response. "I was only clarifying some of the misconceptions, not passing judgments on anyone's performance."

The rogue warrior shook his head. "You only clarified the fact that most elves are smug and arrogant."

It was the wizard's turn to fold his arms across his chest. "Really? That's absurd…"

Sir Dural stepped between the two. "If you two are done bickering, we still need to tear down the camp so that it can no longer be used as a base of operations. Einlan, Can you work with Jaceira to burn down those tents and these walls and make sure we don't destroy the rest of the forest in the process. I'll have the soldiers gather up all the supplies they can first and haul them back to the villagers."

The rogue warrior spun around and turned away. "I'll go and check that all the orcs are deceased and if they have any valuable information on them."

The paladin nodded. "Would you like to question Tu'Grol?"

The messenger flashed a sly grin. "I think I can convince him to give us all the information he knows."

"Good, we need to find out what he knows about the mysterious human." The sergeant turned to the other soldiers and motioned them over. "All of you need to help search the area, remove any goods from the camp. Once that is done, Wylan, Klenn and Horlin will head back and meet up with the freed prisoners and escort them back to the village. Bandon, Tagrus and Skal will burn down the fort and stand guard while we question the orc leader. We will meet back up in Stalford."

The group split up and began to carry out their assignments. They found some stolen horses northeast of camp and used them to haul the goods that were taken from the village. Half of the soldiers left camp to meet up with the ex-captives while the others began to cover the tents and walls with pitch from a barrel that the orcs had acquired. They moved all the underbrush and unfinished walls to the center of camp to prevent the fire from spreading to the surrounding forest. Once that was done they set torches to the camp and it began to quickly catch fire and burn.

The orc leader began to stir as the camp was transformed into a bright orange blazing inferno. Keltar glanced up from sharpening his knife on a whetstone. "Ah, the great orc leader has returned to us again."

Tu'Grol tested the ropes binding his hands and feet but could not move more than an inch or two. His feet were tightly tied together and he was sitting up against a stout tree. His hands were bound together above his head and tied around the tree. Einlan looked up in concern as the mountainous creature began to jostle, but relaxed when he saw that he was unable to move.

The messenger moved up very close to the huge orc and began tapping the flat side of the silver dagger on the leader's massive chest. "You seem fairly intelligent for a swine bred humanoid. Save yourself a lot of pain and tell us everything about these humans who are holding your leash."

The chieftain's face turned into a snarl, "Release me human. Kill me now or release me. I work for no human. We are orcs, mighty warriors who need no help from your pitiful kind."

"Ah, yes, we pitiful humans that took you and your worthless warriors without even losing one man, though you outnumbered us by a large margin. We know a human came and you were forced to grovel before him and he wasn't even their leader. I think it is you who are pathetic. I thought orcs were proud warriors, it seems as if that was just some rumor started no doubt my some sub-par race to try and justify their defeat by your kind."

The orc leader jutted his chin in the air with a look of defiance. "Tu'Grol does not grovel, especially not to humans. Kill me, you have defeated us. It is over. What more you want?"

Keltar gave a chuckle at his comments and shook his head. "You really think we are as stupid as you? We know about the orc clans gathering together, ready to wage war on the human town of Red Larch. They are ready and will slaughter all of your warriors, while sitting comfortably behind a fortified wall. Not only will they be defeated but this will rally all humans to go and seek out and destroy all orcs. Your women and children will be slaughtered so that you cannot wage war on us again. I suppose I should thank this human who duped you into believing you could gain something by attacking a worthless village and a fortified town full of soldiers. The end of the race of orcs will be celebrated and you will be forgotten, except in jokes told in taverns throughout our great cities."

The orc leader's head drooped. "It was not my idea. I didn't trust the human. We had little choice."

The messenger raised an eyebrow, a bit surprised that his tactic worked this well and curious as to why they listened to the human. Einlan's pointy ears perked up at the admission by the chieftain, and leaned closer to hear more of the conversation. Keltar put his dagger back in its sheath. "Little choice? There is always a choice. Why didn't you fight this man? What made you think that he was so powerful?"

"Because other clans already joined humans. Those clans were told to destroy any clan who refused to join and take their lands and their women, and to kill their children."

"Surely after having many clans, they could have overpowered the human. Why would they continue to listen to the human, what power did he hold over the clans who joined?"

"Rumors about the first clan to refuse, the Stormbringers, were destroyed by a great blue flying beast that breathed lightning from its mouth. People with that kind of power offering to help us destroy humans were enough to convince the other clans to join."

Keltar and Einlan turned to look at each other. Both had stunned and concerned looks, though the elf was much less obvious about it. If it was true and the humans who are helping them had a blue dragon under their command, the town of Red Larch would not stand a chance.

The rogue warrior focused his attention back on the massive orc. "This sounds a little far fetched. If this human had such a great beast he could attack the town by himself without the help of the orcs. How did your chieftains accept such a tale."

"The human brought the chieftain of the clan that refused alive. They got to question him about flying beast. They believe the Stormbringer chieftain's story. The human said the orcs must prove worth by taking Red Larch and then he would give them lands to rule after he defeats the leaders of region. They were eager at fight human towns that have pushed them out of areas we used to control. So they agreed to make this war, and destroy all who don't join."

"So where are these humans from? Where do they keep their base?"

The large humanoid shook his wide head. "No idea. They send agents to speak with us. Only one clan chieftain allowed to go to where human's are, head of Bear Tooth clan, Grog'Tur. He was given head chieftain over all clans by the dark one."

"Dark one?"

"Yes. This is name we give to human leader who start to join orc clans. He has powerful magic and controls flying beast. He and other humans always wear dark clothing, so we call him Vrok Tuul, or in your tongue, 'Dark One.'"

The elf wizard rolled his dark bronze eyes, "How creative."

Keltar ignored the comment and decided to change the line of questioning. "We have reports that you send these agents of the Dark One women prisoners. Why?"

"They don't say why. They ask that the women remain pure, not to be touched by warriors for pleasure. Use human men to build fort, women are sent to them."

"I wonder what he wanted the women for," the messenger spoke as he thought out loud.

The elf just shrugged his thin shoulders. "Probably just some sick pleasure he gets from women that are still virgins. I believe Tu'Grol has given us all the information he had. He is of no more use to us."

The orc leader looked up at the two men, then cast his eyes downward. "Yes. I told you all I know. Finish me. I cannot go back in shame."

* * *

"Thank the gods you made it. We were just about to leave," Arlin smiled and clasped hands with Klenn.

The farm boy soldier returned the smile briefly but noticed the fresh scars across the villager's face, which gave him pause. "I am just glad we were able to come in time to save everyone."

The farmer ran a filthy hand through his dirt covered, thick brown beard as his smile quickly faded. "Not everyone. I am sorry Klenn, but Hadus died helping Gansen escape. We were both beaten badly and he didn't make it. I got quite a few scars but apparently they needed us to keep building because the chieftain came down and stopped one of the guards from finishing me off. I should have been the one that died. It was my idea to get Gansen out and cause a diversion and I talked Hadus into it. I got him killed."

Wylan grasped the man's shoulder. "Don't blame yourself for your friend's death. If this was your idea then you have saved a lot of people today. If you hadn't helped Gansen escape, we would have never known of the orc attack and we could have all been killed. There would have been nobody to rescue you, the fort would have been finished under your harsh labor. Once they completed it they would have no more use for you and you would all have been killed anyway."

Klenn nodded his head. "Wylan's right, Arlin. Your plan not only saved the village, and the rest of the prisoners, it helped the group from Waterdeep prepare and defeat the orcs. You should be proud."

The other villagers nodded in agreement and each stepped up and patted the farmer on the back to show their gratitude.

Wylan smiled at the show of appreciation and adjusted the pack on his back. "Let's get going. We're moving out to the village. It's time to get you all home."


	23. Chapter 22

AUTHOR's NOTE: Sorry for the delay in this chapter. Its been a hectic month with pretests and preparation classes for getting my black belt in Wado-Ryu karate, as well as being busy at work with some projects. Not as much time to devote to writing, unfortunately. Hopefully I'll have more time in the near future.

Dagger of Souls

*** Chapter 22 ***

The huge flames rising up from the remnants of the orc fort began to subside, as the sun reached its zenith. The ashes and embers were all that remained of the orc camp. The soldiers along with Jaceira and Arden monitored to the blaze to make sure it didn't spread to the surrounding wilderness. Keltar watched from the south side of camp as the flames died down and then turned back to face the orc chieftain.

Cera grabbed Keltar's arm that was holding the dagger and pulled it away as she moved to stand in front of him. "You can't just kill him. He's unarmed and tied up."

"You must be joking. He has ordered his men to kill the people of Stalford in cold blood, capture and torture prisoners and send innocent young women to some horrible fate. He is guilty and deserves death at the very least. Out in the wilderness there are no magistrates to settle disputes. As a messenger to the Lord's of Waterdeep, I am the closest thing to an official and I say his actions warrant execution. I will grant him a swift death for giving us information, and forgo torture as he did to the village prisoners."

"But you are not a judge. The town leader should decide his fate after hearing him speak in his defense."

"We cannot carry him back to town, we don't' have time. I doubt he would even try to walk there. Lives are at risk in Red Larch and we must get there to warn them."

"Jaceira and Arden can go and warn them without us."

The rogue warrior threw his hands up in the air in frustration. "Well what do you propose? Do you believe he is innocent and should be released? He said himself he wants to die. Why are you being so difficult?"

"Killing in defense is one thing, but someone tied up and unable to move is another. My duty is to protect the helpless."

"Helpless. Take a look at him, he is anything but helpless. He could kill three soldiers without even batting an eyelash."

"Not while he is tied up. Let him go. He cannot return to the others without shame, he said so himself. So he can just wander somewhere and find another tribe or something. You heard him that he was forced into this situation by the threat of death for him and his clansmen. Even if he did return to his superiors, I'm sure the Dark One's men will find out soon enough the base has been destroyed, so there's not much information he can give them. He was doing what he needed to do to protect his men, just as you would have in the same situation."

"No, I would have fought against the Dark One and not succumbed to his plotting. I would not have agreed to attack innocent people to save the men who served me. When you cast your magic and caused one of the orcs to be frozen stiff, he was completely helpless. Yet you bashed his head in with your mace because you had to protect your allies. It is no different here. This orc chieftain did not surrender to us, he tried to kill us all and they went after the innocent villagers even when they thought that we would defeat them."

The knight sighed. "Cera, I understand your points, but Keltar is right. I serve a righteous god, and I know the law of the land. I settle disputes in the region so I do have the authority to decide here as a member of Halls of Justice. He sacrificed other innocent lives to save his people. This was his choice and he must suffer the consequences of his actions. He will be lawfully put to death and the gods will judge his soul."

"Fine. Do what you want. I don't want any part of it." The priestess whirled around and stalked away.

The messenger looked at the knight and shook his head. "I can't believe her sometimes. Letting this monster go?"

Sir Dural glanced at the prisoner and back to the rogue warrior. "If should never be easy to kill another being when not in self-defense. If it is you need to take a hard look within yourself."

"These orcs are barely more than animals."

"No, Keltar, they are not animals. They have intelligence enough to learn and understand our language and carry out tactics far beyond any animal. If not for the war-like nature they could become a real civilization one day. Because of his crimes against these villagers he will be put to death. It should neither be easy or enjoyable. It is simply performing an act of justice."

"Then I will enjoy seeing justice done. The parents of these young girls that he ordered to be taken and sent away will enjoy seeing this bastard get his due." Keltar approached the mountainous orc and stared at the beastly warrior, which had its eyes closed resting or trying to avoid seeing his camp's destruction. The orc suddenly raised his two bound boots and managed to kick out and trap the messenger's knife in between the ropes holding his two boots together. He yanked hard pulling the rogue warrior down and then kicked him with both boots, sending him sprawling on his back side. The orc began to twist at his boots with the knife trapped between the ropes trying to sever them enough to get his legs free.

The knight spun around and drew his sword as soon as the attack took place. The chieftain tried to force the ropes holding his hands above his head up so he could stand. The knife fell away but he managed to chaff the ropes enough that he was able to break them open. The orc's hands were still bound securely above his head and he kept pushing it up so he could stand. The sergeant approached from the side so he couldn't get kicked and then thrust his wide blade into the ribs of the huge orc. The blade went through its side and straight into its heart killing him instantly.

Keltar stood up and wiped the blood from his lip away as he watched the orc.

The paladin looked over to the messenger. "He wanted to die fighting, and I guess he found a way to do it. Are you alright?"

The messenger nodded. "I'll be fine. All this talk of helplessness distracted me." He flashed a scowl at the sergeant, as he recovered his knife. "You should have let me finish him off."

"Justice was served, it should make no difference. Besides he may have succeeded in somehow getting the ropes free and hurting someone else."

"Fine. It's done. Now let's get out of here."

Sir Dural nodded and turned away and stopped as he noticed the elf wizard reading something on two silver bracers that were worn by the orc leader. "Einlan, what did you find out about those."

"These are some type of magical shield that prevents missile weapons from hitting the wearer. They should come in very handy in the future for us."

The knight looked at him quizzically. "It would be nice, but it doesn't appear that would fit anyone here."

"These are created with magic. They will adjust to fit the wearer of any size once it is worn."

Sir Dural raised his eyebrows. "I see. Since you have no armor for protection and could be a target of anyone with ranged weapons to stop you from your arcane abilities go ahead and use them."

The wizard gave a grin and a nod and slipped the two silver objects over his hands. The arcane engravings glowed as the bracers shrunk to fit around the elf's slender wrists. "They are not exactly my style, but they will be useful."

The sergeant ordered the soldiers to douse the remnant flames with buckets of snow to extinguish them and make sure the hot embers wouldn't blow into nearby brush. Once that was completed they gathered their equipment and returned to the village.

* * *

"It's the Heroes of Waterdeep," cried out a husky man holding a crossbow near the entrance to town from the dirt covered road. He blew the guard horn with several blasts in the direction of town. He waved to Sir Dural and the rest of the group excitedly. As they approached to within speaking distance he gave the sergeant a clumsy, but hearty salute. "I'm guard watchmen Merle sir. Welcome back."

The paladin looked back at the zealous villager and gave a nod. "Thank you Merle. Did Klenn make it back safely with the captive villagers?"

"Yes, sir they arrived over two hours ago. You shoulda seen all the commotion from the families that got to see their loved ones. It was a sight to see. We heard that you defeated them orc beasts without losing anyone. Kicked them in their green arses. The town is ready to hold a big celebration in your honor, sir."

The knight gave him a slight smile. "I really appreciate that, but we will be leaving tonight. The danger for Stalford may be over, but there is trouble on the horizon for Red Larch and we must get there and warn them of what is coming. And you don't have to call me sir. As a citizen of Stalford you help pay taxes to Waterdeep that pays us soldiers. We work for you, sir."

Merle's grin disappeared and his eyes widened. "More trouble? Are you sure we aren't in danger?"

"We don't believe so, but you should remain vigilant anyway. We've been informed thousands of orcs are prepared to attack Red Larch. The orc fort here was a forward operating base they were going to use to attack the reinforcements from Waterdeep. We destroyed their fort and the clan that was there, so the danger for you should be minimal from this war. I'm sorry but we have to talk with your town leader and then depart."

Sir Dural and the others pressed on to the center of the village. People emerged from the cottages to cheer, clap and shout out to the group to praise them in the victory over the orc clan. Klenn and the other soldiers came over to meet them in the middle of town. The paladin waved them over. "Klenn. Good job getting the captives back home. I need you to come with me to meet the town leader."

"Yes, sir. I know some trails that can help you get to Red Larch faster than using the roads."

"Excellent. You will come with us and guide us to the town." The knight craned his neck to look back at the lanky senior soldier behind him. "Wylan, take the rest of the soldiers and go and get some rest and a bath. In two hours pack everything up and get ready to move out. I'm going to talk with Holtin and see if they can provide us with horses so we can ride to Red Larch as quick as possible."

"Yes, sir. Thank you sir. We'll be ready in two hours."

As the soldier walked away, a small bird flew down from a nearby rooftop and fluttered over Einlan, while holding a rolled up parchment tied with thick yarn in its talons. The wizard held out his arm and smiled as the avian creature landed. "Elyria. Its good to see you." The elf glanced at the holy warrior. "It looks like Waterdeep has sent a response to us."

Sir Dural moved over next to the wizard. "Great. But they don't know half of what's going on now. What did they say?"

The wizard untied the scroll from around the sparrow hawk's talon and handed it to the sergeant.

The knight unfurled it and scanned the parchment carefully, as the others in the group gathered around. He finished reading it and shook his head. "They will send a garrison of fifty troops to help secure Stalford and the surrounding area, but a treaty will Red Larch prohibits them from sending troops unless specifically requested by the town council. Until then they cannot send anyone to help them out, especially with only the word of a single druid as the only evidence of a pending invasion."

The priestess looked concerned and sighed. "But we have more evidence now. The chieftain's confession that we all witnessed confirmed their plans to attack Red Larch."

The paladin nodded in agreement. "Yes, but they don't know that yet. If this treaty is true then they would be violating the terms to send troops anyway. I'm sure it was probably the town's idea to make sure Waterdeep didn't interfere with their affairs by keeping a garrison of troops there to influence their decisions. We must convince the town of Red Larch to send the request and quickly."

The rogue warrior fiddled with his daggers as he listened to the news. "Maybe we'll get lucky and they'll find out their fort was destroyed and call off the invasion."

Einlan shook his head. "I doubt it. I know enough about orcs to know their bloodlust. That many clans travelling from their homelands to wage war on humans aren't going to just turn around and go home. They'll be out for someone's blood. They'll either kill each other or attack the town. I'm sure this Dark One that has organized this war will not abandon his mission for one setback. They still have a big advantage if they have the support of a dragon."

The knight nodded his agreement. "Well said elf friend. We can only hope they fight each other, but we must be prepared that they will start this war and soon. They may already be on the march to the city. We must make haste and get to Red Larch and warn them."

Jaceira frowned and gazed at the sergeant. "They won't listen. Their town council is stubborn and ignorant."

"They only heard your analysis of the situation. I am a sergeant and a paladin of the Halls of Justice and Keltar is a messenger to the Lord's of Waterdeep. I believe our testimony of the orc chieftain's own interrogation will be enough to convince them. It has to be. Now let's go secure some horses and prepare for a hard ride to Red Larch."


End file.
